Perhaps they’re not all secrets, but this blogger/author (Rebecca Joines Schinsky) prompted me to make some admissions here. Out loud, so to speak. Some are repetitions of things formerly stated, or maybe ranted about, so I guess it’s more of a for the record situation.
So here goes:
1. I don’t like jumping on reading “band wagons” like Harry Potter, Twilight or the Sookie Stackhouse series.
2. That said, I reluctantly joined The Millennium trilogy and Hunger Games parades. And I loved the True Blood series on HBO. Watched them all DVD after the fact.
3. I won’t consider a book if I see a number on the cover from being a part of a series. A series is too much of a long-time commitment on my part and usually not worth the effort because of all the copy-catting from previous series.
4. I refuse to try anything by the Bronte sisters or Jane Austen. Wuthering Heights almost killed me in high school, and watching the movie Clueless (before the pre-chewed food craziness) was enough. Victorian romance is just not my thing.
5. I will usually suffer through most any book I start even if I don’t like it, i.e. Anna Karenina. There’s something about getting to the end and knowing what happened. It didn’t matter with The Sun Also Rises. I simply gave up.
6. Much of my reading is about lives in dysfunction. There’s just too much mamby-pamby-everything’s-flowers-and-rainbows-with-fangs crap out there right now. I peruse the darker real side of life, as it’s more gritty and intriguing.
7. I count my son’s books in my total number of books read. It’s admittedly dumb, but I simply like to see that number grow, even with children’s books. The number actually matters to no one but me.
original article at Huff Post