Taylor Swift's "Summer" Songs and Summer Reading

Summer Reading and the Freedom to Choose Your Own Literary Adventure

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This week’s episode: Summer!

"Freedom felt like summer then on the coast." What happens when we explore Taylor Swift's music through the lens of summer? In this episode, we explore how summer functions both as a setting and a symbol in Taylor's songwriting. From the cruel intensity of forbidden love to nostalgic August romances and the catastrophic blues of heartbreak, we explore how Taylor uses summer to capture everything from youthful freedom to emotional devastation. Join us as we discuss "Cruel Summer," "august," and "Hits Different" to uncover why summer hits different in Taylor's discography.

🎧 Listen above and ⬇️ scroll below to read Jodi’s extra credit on summer reading lists.

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📜 This Week’s Extra Credit by Jodi

I was the kid who walked through the hallways of my elementary school in 3rd grade with my copy of Matilda clutched in my hands. In high school, in addition to one or two books we had to read each summer for our class, the entire school would get a list of books recommended by teachers. We’d have to pick a book to read, and then the first week of school, during breakfast one day, we’d sit with the teacher whose book we decided to read and discuss it together. I loved getting a curated list of recommended books, from my favorite teachers, no less, and picked a book that my prior-year English teacher suggested: Lolita. Did my 15-year-old brain comprehend anything I was reading? Highly unlikely. All I remember is sitting down at the breakfast table that September morning, my English teacher looking at the 4 of us who spent our summers reading Lolita, and she said to us: “I put that on the list because I didn’t think anyone would read it!”

I laughed. Of course we did! We were the kids who would read anything.

“Freedom felt like summer then”

Here's the thing about summer reading that I've been thinking about, especially after this week’s episode on summer: it's supposed to be the season of freedom, but somehow it comes loaded with obligation. Summer reading lists, mandatory “fun” on July 4th, the pressure to be "productive" even during break time. It's the literary equivalent of what we discussed with Taylor's "Cruel Summer"—something that should be pure joy but comes with its own particular anxiety.

Think about it: we spend the school year being told what to read, when to read it, and how to think about it. Then summer arrives with its promise of liberation, but there's still this underlying current of "you should be reading something worthwhile." Even in our supposed freedom, we're carrying around ideas about what counts as "real" reading versus guilty pleasure reading. Or as adults, we spend time at work being told what to do, when to do it by, and what we’re doing wrong. Then summer comes and—oh wait, we’re adults! We don’t get a summer break! But we’re fed stories of relaxation and rest, as if the summer is still a reset like it was as kids. There’s still this tension between freedom and structure.

Looking back at my old summer reading lists from high school (yes, I kept them—of course I did), I can see this tension playing out in real time. Crime and Punishment sits right next to Gossip Girl: I Like It Like That. The Iliad checked off alongside Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. It's beautifully chaotic, and it perfectly captures what summer reading actually is when you strip away the guilt and the hierarchies: just a curious mind let loose in a bookstore. A mix of what I “have” to read and what I “want” to read.

“Dear reader: Get out your map, pick somewhere and just run”

Over the years, I've realized that summer books fall into a few distinct categories, and the best summers are when I read across all of them without apology.

Required Reading are the vegetables of the literary world—Lolita, The Things They Carried, The Iliad. These are the books often chosen by teachers to challenge and expand young minds, or chosen by ambitious young minds to challenge themselves. The thing is, sometimes you're just not ready for them. When I first read Lolita at 14, it completely went over my head. I was incredibly naive and missed all the nuances of Humbert Humbert as a sexual predator (I know, I know). It wasn't until we read it in class later that I had my "aha" moment—suddenly understanding what I'd completely missed during that summer. Some books benefit from discussion, from hearing other people's points of view, whether that comes from a classroom, a book club, or even a podcast where three friends overanalyze Taylor Swift lyrics, for example.

Beach Reads are pure entertainment—Gossip Girl from my high school days, or any Emily Henry or Ashley Poston read today. Think contemporary romance, anything you can devour poolside or beachside. These are the books we sometimes feel we need to justify, as if reading for pure enjoyment is somehow less valid than reading for education. But here's what I've learned: any reading is reading! We read for different reasons—to learn, to be entertained, to escape, to connect. There's no hierarchy of worthiness when it comes to the act of turning pages. Do not feel the need to justify your reading! Embrace it.

Passion Projects are the books that consume you completely. For me, this was the Harry Potter series during those magical midnight launch years. I remember going to Barnes & Noble at the mall at midnight (this was HARD for someone who never stayed up late, and probably even harder for my mom who had to drive me). We'd gather in the store, I'd run into friends, grab our books, and race home. I'd tear through them in days, reading everywhere—by the pool, holding the book carefully above the water so the pages wouldn't get wet, then climbing onto the diving board to read in the sun. These are the books that remind you why you fell in love with reading in the first place.

The Unexpected are books that blur all these categories—The Devil in the White City, Blink, The Weight of Ink. Books that should be "serious" but read like page-turners, or books that seem light but reveal deeper truths. These are often the most rewarding discoveries, the ones that remind you how arbitrary our reading categories really are. I love historical fiction, memoirs, and literary nonfiction because they are entertaining and educational at the same time, reading like mass-market paperback page turners, but they’re about real events or inspired by history! This is where I thrive.

“Don't read the last page”

This taxonomy reminds me of how Taylor Swift describes her own music using the metaphor of different pens—fountain, glitter gel, and quill. Her "glitter gel pen" songs are our beach reads. These songs have upbeat, carefree, youthful energy with a danceable quality—think “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” or Emily Henry’s “Beach Read.”

"Quill pen" songs feature elevated, poetic language with historical or literary influences, evoking old-fashioned romance or drama—songs like "evermore" and "ivy." These are our required reading, not that we wouldn’t read them ourselves, but sometimes their literary quality or historical influences mean someone else is going to assign them to us first.

And finally, "fountain pen" songs are modern, personal stories told with vivid imagery and emotional detail, like "All Too Well" and "Cornelia Street." These are our unexpected books—the literary nonfiction that makes a historical moment read like a romance novel. Memoirs that bring someone’s past to life in technicolor detail.

Like reading, picking a song to listen to depends on the mood, and there's no set criteria each time. Some people gravitate toward one type of music or one genre of books, but I love the mixture of them all together.

“‘Cause she’s the kind of book that you can’t put down”

As an adult, I still make lists of books I want to read and books I've finished. I love the satisfaction of adding a completed book to the list. I read for entertainment, escape, and education, often simultaneously. I love re-reading old favorites from high school or college and seeing them through new eyes (currently on my bedside table waiting to be reread: Mrs. Dalloway, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, Foxfire by Joyce Carol Oates, all my original copies from growing up).

I’ve got The Weight of Ink and Assassin's Blade on audiobook, Traction on my Kindle, and a hard copy of Daring Greatly. I can see that I'm still that same eclectic reader from high school. Literary fiction next to fantasy next to business books. The teenager who put Gossip Girl on the same list as Crime and Punishment is still here, and she's learned that this isn't a contradiction, it's a celebration!

“Now I’ve read all of the books beside your bed”

Summer reading taught me that the best approach to books—like music, like any art—is to resist false hierarchies. There's no shame in reading the entire Fourth Wing series in a row, just like there's no shame in putting on "22" when you need pure joy. There's also no shame in tackling The Unbearable Lightness of Being by the pool, re-reading The Canterbury Tales for fun, or finding profound meaning in a Taylor Swift song.

The teacher who didn't expect anyone to read Lolita hit on something: sometimes the books we're not "supposed" to want to read are exactly the ones we need. Sometimes we find meaning in Chaucer, other times in Ali Hazel. Sometimes we need the literary weight of Mrs. Dalloway, other times we need the pure escapism of romantasy. It all depends on what our hearts and minds are hungry for in that moment.

That curious 15-year-old who laughed at her teacher's surprise—who put Gossip Girl right next to Crime and Punishment without a second thought—had it right all along. She understood something I'm still learning: the best reading life is one that can't be contained by anyone else's expectations.

So whatever's on your summer reading list this year, read without apology. Mix the profound with the frivolous, the challenging with the comfortable.