I must read 38 books before Labor Day and I’m already behind. Here’s my list: Mostly shorter must...

According to the rotation of the Earth, tilt of the poles and placement of the sun, the first week of summer has ended, which means one thing: I need to finish this Andrew McCarthy memoir fast. That way I can get started on “Wings of the Dove,” which being Henry James might take a chunk of time and crowd out the Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie and that book about sailing around the world I keep trying to finish. This is what the summer solstice means to me: Since midnight Friday, Memorial Day Weekend, I have read at least 20 books. More or less 20. By this point, around 20. My summer reading, for as ...