9 Books I Love Now: Summer Reading Recommendations

Sunscreen-Popsicle-and-beach-read season is fast approaching. As you daydream about your upcoming summer vacation (or look forward to the long Memorial Day weekend ahead!), here are nine books I’ve recently read/am reading and highly recommend. Prop your flip-flopped feet up and enjoy, friends!

FICTION

“Romantic Comedy” (Curtis Sittenfeld, 2023)—The latest novel from socioculturally perceptive writer Curtis Sittenfeld, “Romantic Comedy” makes you “feel there” in the setting of a late-night live comedy show, both pre- and post-Covid. It’s impossible not to root for a happily-ever-after for talented but jaded sketch writer Sally Milz and the show’s newest guest host, sweet pop star Noah Brewster.

Possibly my favorite quote from the book: “‘Anyway,’ I said, ‘for as long as I live, I’ll always remember that you went and bought Jerry a bedside commode'” (page 286, Sally to Noah regarding her beloved stepfather, who’s ill). Because true love = showing up in the least Instagram-y of moments.

“The Society of Shame” (Jane Roper, 2023)—I just started reading this, and I’ve been laughing nonstop. A sadly cliched scandal involving her politician husband thrusts middle-aged Kathleen Held into the multimedia spotlight, where she “becomes the unwitting figurehead for a new women’s rights movement.” Author Jane Roper cleverly explores the nuance (and occasional madness) related to contemporary phenomena such as hashtag activism, cancel culture, and “hipster-splaining” (page 15) and “trust fund hippies” (page 55), against the backdrop of Kathleen’s public embarrassment.

“Wake” (Shelley Burr, 2022)—I loved this debut mystery from Shelley Burr. Loved it. Set in the Australian outback, “Wake” tells the age-old story of a long-since-missing girl, but with some decidedly present-day, Internet-era twists (true-crime chat rooms, life-changing secrets on laptops).

“Wake” literally kept me up all night—from the moment I began reading it, I couldn’t stop. I can’t wait to read this author’s follow-up novel, “Murder Town,” which will be published later this year and which brings back Lane Holland, the cold-case private investigator from “Wake.”

Now, on to my nonfiction picks…

NONFICTION

“52 Ways to Walk: The Surprising Science of Walking for Wellness and Joy, One Week at a Time” (Annabel Streets, 2022)—This is a beautiful yet research-based ode to the many benefits of walking, for reasons ranging from physical health to emotional healing. I absolutely love walking on the rail trail near my home, as much as I can, so this book really resonated with me.

Author Annabel Streets offers up a “walking mode” for every week of the year. Examples include “Walk, Smile, Greet, Repeat”; “Walk to Remember”; and “Climb Hills.”

“Egg: A Dozen Ovatures” (Lizzie Stark, 2023)—The one-word title and bright-green cover intrigued me enough to check out “Egg,” “[a]n unconventional history of the world’s largest cellular workhorse, from chickens to penguins, from art to crime, and more.” Some fun moments from what I’ve read so far: “Even if one disdains a straight scramble, the egg is a key ingredient in many comfort foods, including pancakes and birthday cake. For all these reasons, eggs carry a certain nostalgia” (page 33).

Also: “Many world cultures love a decorated egg. In China red eggs symbolize luck…In Mexico, cascarones—decorated eggs that have been hollowed out and filled with confetti—make joyful explosions as they are broken on children’s heads in springtime…In a folk tradition from Hungary, meanwhile, blacksmiths display the delicacy of their skills by decorating blown eggs with miniature horseshoes” (page 89).

“Free for All: Oddballs, Geeks, and Gangsters in the Public Library” (Don Borchert, 2007)—I work in a public library, so when this book crossed my desk, I had to check it out, take it home with me. This book is hilarious, friends. Probably fellow library employees would most appreciate it, but it’s a fun, super-accessible inside look at public-library life that anyone can enjoy.

The chapter entitled “The Friends of the Library” was one of my favorites. A choice quote: “You think, who the hell are these friends? Who are these pro-library, free-spending, deep-pocketed friends? Are they my friends, too?” (page 95).

“Make Space for Happiness” (Tracy McCubbin, 2022)—Subtitled “How to Stop Attracting Clutter and Start Magnetizing the Life You Want,” this book is my current spring-cleaning how-to pick. I especially enjoyed the section on “Why We Buy” (pages 25-33). Food for thought: “Today, sales are constant and fairly meaningless.”

“Memorial Drive: A Daughter’s Memoir” (Natasha Trethewey, 2020)—Wow…what a heartbreakingly compelling masterpiece of memoir writing. In “Memorial Drive,” former U.S. poet laureate Natasha Trethewey turns to prose to reflect on the tragic domestic-violence death of her mother. “Some forgetting is necessary and the mind works to shield us from things that are too painful; even so,” Trethewey writes, “some aspect of trauma lives on in the body, from which it can reemerge unexpectedly” (page 52).

A powerful story and reflection on love—race—loss—memory—and moving forward.

“Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto” (Chuck Klosterman, 2004)—Earlier this year, I read “The Nineties” by Chuck Klosterman (published in 2022) and totally loved it; a writing friend recommended I read this book, one of Klosterman’s earlier works, and I’m so glad I did (thank you, Chad!).

So yes, I discovered “Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs” nearly two decades too late, but still…if you’re a pop-culture fan like me, then this classic is one you don’t want to miss.

Other books that friends have recommended, which are on my next-to-read list: “Beartown”; “The Cult of We: WeWork, Adam Neumann, and the Great Startup Delusion”; “Hello, Molly!”; “The Lost Apothecary”; and “Nora Goes Off Script” (thank you so much to Kirsten, Deanna, Meredith, Alexa and Melissa, respectively!).

What are you reading beachside, lakeside or poolside this summer, friends? 🙂

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Like what you just read? Then check out Melissa Leddy’s e-books on Amazon.com. Short fiction and creative nonfiction writing that’s engaging, witty and from the heart.

The Problems That You Have When You’re Secretary of the PTA

On a sunny May afternoon, I was walking home from school pickup with my two daughters and some of our neighbors/friends. All of us sauntered along, chitchatted, the vibe as pleasant as the spring weather.

Thus, I decided to throw an idea out there.

“Hey, Tim, Evvie,” I said to my friends. (Their names are not Tim or Evvie.) “Just wanted to ask you about something for the PTA…”

“I’m not joining your Fundraising Committee,” Tim said, without turning around.

Ouch. But I laughed lightly. “Oh, it’s not about that…”

Before I move on, friends… Tim’s comment, “I’m not joining your Fundraising Committee,” beautifully illustrates two of the problems that I’ve had since becoming the accidental secretary of my children’s elementary-school PTA last year:

Problem No. 1: When you volunteer as a PTA board member, you risk losing your friends. Because your friends will worry that whenever you approach them, you’ll try to wrangle them into volunteering for the PTA too. (This is a valid concern, by the way. A valid concern.)

Problem No. 2: Things that are not yours can become…yours. For example: a Fundraising Committee.

I tried to clarify about this committee to Tim and Evvie. “I’m not in charge of the Fundraising Committee,” I said. “I’m just looking for volunteers for it—that’s what that email I sent was about.” (Hopefully more people will email me back…)

“What I wanted to ask you both about,” I continued brightly, “was Math and Science Night.”

“What’s Math and Science Night?” Tim asked.

I explained: In two weeks, the school would be hosting the third of three Math and Science Nights, this one for kindergarten and first-grade students. There would be hands-on STEM kits and experiments for parents and their children to explore together.

Tim furrowed his brow. “I didn’t see an email about that.”

Problem No. 3: It can be very difficult to impossible to communicate all the information to all the people all the time. You will, however, do your best to attempt this feat. Yet still…your friend Tim will tell you, “Never heard anything about that.”

“So, there were some emails and Facebook posts about this earlier in the year,” I told Tim, watching to see if this jogged his memory. “It was also on that three-page events handout that the PTA passed out during the welcome-back night in the fall. A lot of people throw those out, but some people magnet them to their fridges…?”

Evvie helped me out here: “I loaded all those dates into my phone.”

Wow. I looked at Evvie, impressed. I didn’t even do that. Which brings me to my next story…

It was a Thursday night, and I was working at the library.

The whole day was hectic, to start with: Stanton found out last-minute he needed to be out of town for work. I scrambled to find a babysitter for the evening, plus a friend to take Grace home from an after-school extracurricular activity. That morning, I also needed to finish a freelance editing assignment.

When I finally got to work at the library, I breathed a sigh of relief: All the logistics of the day had somehow worked out.

Then…ding. I glanced at my phone.

“Agh,” I said.

Problem No. 4: Just when you think life is under control, there’s a PTA emergency.

“Something wrong with the kids?” one of my co-workers asked. (Let’s call him Peter.) Peter knew Stanton was traveling, and the girls had a babysitter.

I shook my head. “The PTA.”

Peter raised his eyebrows.

I explained: “Tomorrow is Fashion Disaster Day, and there haven’t been any reminders about it.”

“Fashion Disaster Day,” Peter repeated, slowly. “What is that?”

I laughed. Peter is a retired military veteran, and his expression was priceless. “Like, your clothes clash. Fun for the kids, you know?”

Peter gave me a look that implied no, he didn’t know (and he raised five children, all now adults).

I told Peter I probably needed to take a minute and post a friendly reminder about Fashion Disaster Day. “This is really short notice, though,” I said, as I tapped out the post on my phone. “The night before the event…somebody’s going to be upset, with me…”

“Melissa.”

I looked at Peter.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Deep down, I knew Peter was right.

“What is that?”

At the last PTA meeting I attended, one of our kind co-presidents (who is also my friend) said we still needed someone to volunteer to lead the effort with Teacher Appreciation Week. “Any volunteers?” she asked.

Nobody said anything.

The meeting progressed. As it began wrapping up, the co-president tried again. “So, we really need someone to take care of Teacher Appreciation Week,” she said. “It doesn’t have to be a big thing. Just…will someone do this? …anyone?”

Sigh.

Problem No. 5: Out of empathy for the PTA co-president, who is also your friend, you find yourself volunteering for one…more…thing. (This is also partly how I became secretary of the PTA in the first place.)

“I’ll do it,” I said. “I’ve got Teacher Appreciation Week. I love teachers: My mom was a teacher, I have good friends who are teachers. But, folks…I really can’t make it a big thing. I can’t come to school every morning with gift baskets. I prefer not to collect a bunch of Venmo’s…”

Everyone agreed: Let’s keep Teacher Appreciation Week low-key, but full of heart. Like last year, we would do a “theme” for each day of the week. (For example, Wednesday would be “Dress Like Your Teacher Day.”)

I made a flyer. I tried to spread the word about this flyer in every way possible, so that everyone who wanted to participate in Teacher Appreciation Week knew about it: I asked the school secretary to email it to every family. I asked the principal to include a link to it in her weekly newsletter. I posted it on the school Facebook page.

For good measure, the school secretary even made paper copies of the flyer for teachers to send home with their students.

In the event that anyone had any questions, I put a note on the bottom of the flyer: “Questions? Contact Melissa Leddy,” along with my email address.

This was a…well-meaning but not-bright idea. Because…

“Mom!” Grace was laughing when I picked up her and Anna from school. “My class tried to email you today!”

I was confused. “What?”

Grace showed me a copy of the flyer I’d made. “Mrs. Bianchi passed these out, and Oliver A. saw your name and email address at the bottom. So he said he was going to email Grace’s mom with a question. And then everyone tried to email you!”

“What was Oliver A.’s question?” I wondered.

“He didn’t really have one! He just wanted to email you! But Mrs. Bianchi said, ‘Do not email Grace’s mom!'”

Problem No. 6: Your 5th-grade daughter and all her classmates will attempt to spam your inbox.

I didn’t see that one coming, friends. Didn’t see that one coming.

One of my friends recently asked me, “Are you glad you did it, being secretary of the PTA?”

Despite what you may think, based on the six problems I shared here… The answer is yes. Overall, volunteering for the PTA truly has been a meaningful experience to me, being more involved in my daughters’ day-to-day school lives and, as best as I could, serving as a source of communications and community building.

Now, do I think somebody else could have done it better? Absolutely, 100 percent yes to that too. Somebody else definitely could have been a better secretary than I’ve been.

But nobody else raised their hand, which is how my name ended up at the bottom of a Teacher Appreciation Week flyer…and Fundraising Committee call-for-volunteers email…and Math and Science Night Facebook post.

Speaking of which… Tim? Evvie? If you’re reading this, friends…I could still use your help for Math and Science Night next Friday. No pressure, but…

😉

Photo credit: Pixabay

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Like what you just read? Then check out Melissa Leddy’s e-books on Amazon.com. Short fiction and creative nonfiction writing that’s engaging, witty and from the heart.

Please Don’t Tell Me I Have to Use That Porta-Potty

Like parents of elementary-school-aged children everywhere, I spent much of this past Saturday at an outdoor sports field, cheering on my 11-year-old daughter. Grace had her first lacrosse games of the spring season.

As many of you know, I work every third weekend at my library, which means I can’t be part of one-third of my daughters’ weekend activities. For the two-thirds that I can be there for, then…I’m overjoyed to be there, friends. I simply appreciate that time so much.

So: Saturday morning. Stanton, the girls and I were going to be out at the lacrosse field from about 10:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. Thus, I packed us up with everything we needed (based on my past experience) for a successful weekend sports outing: snacks for everyone; water bottles for the girls (I planned to buy coffee somewhere once we get there); foldable, portable camping chairs in case there were no bleachers at the field; and, if there were bleachers, two beach towels to wipe them off, because it’s been a rainy past few days.

For good measure, Stanton also threw some umbrellas and an extra rain jacket in the car. Grace, meanwhile, loaded in her equipment bag. It appeared as though—appeared—Team Leddy was prepared and ready to roll.

The four of us arrived around the time we were supposed to. There were, in fact, bleachers, and they were, in fact, a little wet from the recent rain. No problem: I broke out the towels.

Grace began playing her first game. Stanton, Anna and I cheered her on. Then Anna got hungry.

Again, not a problem. I presented my 8-year-old with an array of snack choices: granola bar, yogurt squeezer, homemade Lunchables. Anna dug into a granola bar.

The first game wrapped up around noon; the second game started a little after 1. Grace and Anna began eating their Lunchables. I wasn’t hungry, but I could definitely go for some hot coffee.

Also…a bathroom break would be good too.

I had spotted a porta-potty nearby, but it needs to be a Grade A Emergency for Melissa Leddy to use a porta-potty. (Yes, friends, I’ll admit: I’m a bit of a diva/wimp about bathroom breaks.)

Solution: I would go to Stewart’s.

Now, if you’re one of my family members or friends from outside New York who’s reading this, you may be wondering what Stewart’s is.

Basically, Stewart’s is to upstate New York what Wawa is to the Philadelphia/mid-Atlantic region and what Buc-ee’s is to Texas. Stewart’s is a trusted, local convenience store/gas station that is, arguably, most beloved for its excellent ice cream. (I always carry my Stewart’s “Scoop Club card” with me.)

If you’re on the road in upstate New York (north of New York City) and in need of a quick pick-me-up or fill-the-gas-tank-up (or clean public restroom that is not a porta-potty), you pull into the first Stewart’s you see. New Yorkers as young as 9 months old know this.

😉

Thus… “I’ll be right back,” I told Stanton. “I’m going to find a Stewart’s. Would you like any coffee?”

No, Stanton said.

“Are you sure?”

“Please don’t bring me anything back.”

Roger that; I headed out.

I put “Stewart’s” into Google Maps on my phone, and…right away ran into trouble. I was on a high school campus I’d never been to before, and Google Maps unhelpfully directed me to “Proceed to the route.” But I couldn’t find my way out of the huge parking lot.

Somehow, I ended up at the school district bus garage. I stared at row upon row of yellow school buses.

“Proceed to the route,” Google Maps repeated for the 15th time.

Agh.

Eventually, I ran into a friend, whom I knew was returning from Stewart’s. I flagged her down.

Kindly, she rolled down her window; I pulled up alongside her and did the same. “Hey, where’s Stewart’s?” I asked.

My friend gave me directions (“I got the Maple French Toast coffee you recommended”!), which I did my best to follow…but my original Google Maps destination, still chirping from my phone, kept telling me to go the opposite way. Because there were multiple Stewart’s around me.

“Rerouting…rerouting… Proceed to the route.”

Finally, at long last, I pulled into a Stewart’s. My Stewart’s, however…did not have a public restroom. Or multiple flavors of coffee, like every other Stewart’s I’ve ever been to during my seven years of living in New York.

“Really?” I asked the front-counter clerk. I wasn’t sure which disheartened me more: the lack of a restroom, or the lowly choice of either regular or decaf only (no Maple French Toast, my favorite flavor, in sight!).

I wasn’t sure which disheartened me more: the lack of a restroom, or the lowly choice or either regular or decaf only (no Maple French Toast, my favorite flavor, in sight!).

It was after 1 p.m.; Grace’s second game would be starting soon. I paid for my regular coffee (a small, not my usual medium, because I still needed to use a restroom) and drove back to the lacrosse field.

“Mel,” Stanton greeted me. He and Anna were standing with my friend.

“You found Stewart’s!” she said. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

Of course, I completely understood why she’d think that: I had telegraphed 0 percent confidence during our impromptu parking-lot conversation half an hour earlier.

But… “Not your Stewart’s,” I half-cried. “The Stewart’s I went to didn’t have a public restroom.”

“Really?”

“Or Maple French Toast coffee!”

My friend made a sympathetic gesture. “You were right; this flavor is really good.”

One thing you should know about me, friends: I’m not a jealous person…usually.

You have a newer phone than I do? Drive a nicer car? Live in a bigger house? I don’t care about any of that stuff.

But…my favorite flavor of Stewart’s hot coffee? On a rainy Saturday that I have off from work? And a clean public restroom that isn’t a porta-potty, when I desperately need one?

Now I’m a green-eyed monster.

“Mel is legitimately jealous of you right now,” Stanton told our friend.

“True,” I confirmed.

Not long after, Anna said she needed to use the bathroom. At this point, I really did too. It had become…a Grade A emergency.

Regretfully—but bravely—Anna and I made our way over to…the porta-potty.

It had become…a Grade A emergency.

Holding my breath, I opened the porta-potty door.

Gag.

But… “We can do this, honey,” I told Anna.

I noticed there was no toilet paper. No problem: At my Stewart’s, I had stuffed a bunch of napkins in my purse.

Then I noticed there also was no soap, but a sign: “Last Cleaned in October 2022.” Huh.

“Mom?”

I closed my eyes. Shut the door. “I can’t do it,” I said, kind of to my daughter, but mostly to myself. “I just can’t do it.”

“Are you done?”

I opened my eyes, looked at another mom. “It’s really disgusting,” I warned her.

She pulled something cone-shaped out of her tote bag. “Oh, I have a portable urinal,” she said.

Anna’s eyes bugged out. So did mine.

What the ****?

I have now officially seen everything.

I grabbed Anna’s hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

When I’m at work on the weekend, I couldn’t help thinking, at least I have access to indoor plumbing. That is never a problem.

“What are we going to do, Mom?” Anna wondered. “Tinkle behind a tree?”

I mean, that wasn’t the worst idea, but there were kids everywhere; this was a school-related event. I didn’t want to do anything inappropriate that might provoke a law-enforcement response.

“How was the porta-potty?” Stanton asked when we returned.

I groaned. “It didn’t work out.”

Stanton’s eyes widened. “You still haven’t gone to the bathroom?”

“I’m OK, honey…I’m uncomfortable, but I’m OK.”

“I’m not, Dad!” Anna piped up. “I really need to tinkle.”

Stanton drove Anna and me to our friend’s Stewart’s (the good one). We used the public restroom (heaven!). Stanton bought a pack of gummy bears on the way out.

Grace has another lacrosse game next weekend, at another field I’ve never been to. I already have a game plan: Before we head out there, I’m going to Google nearby Stewart’s locations. I’m going to confirm they have public restrooms (and Maple French Toast coffee).

I’ll be prepared—really prepared—next weekend.

Photo credit: Pixabay

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Like what you just read? Then check out Melissa Leddy’s e-books on Amazon.com. Short fiction and creative nonfiction writing that’s engaging, witty and from the heart.