I am picky about the subgenres I read.
I am kind of judgmental about which subgenres a book is classified in.
I also know that this is kind of a problem.
I’m adventurous in every facet of my life but when it comes to choosing a book and liking it, I am as stubborn as they get. It’s not that I don’t give a book a try, it’s just that when I do step out from what I know I like, I’m usually annoyingly underwhelmed. For me, the secret word which makes me not want to read a book is romance.
Don’t stop reading! I know that many LE readers are fans of romance and if you’ve read any of my reviews, you’ve probably already guessed that I’m not. I try to approach every book with an open mind and simply take it as is so I know it’s not that I am judging the book by the cover. Since writing here at LE, I have had to cover some subgenres that I wouldn’t normally take a second glance at. Many times they even have the word romance in their library of congress classifications and I have read them and judged them fairly. I do end up being a bit disappointed though.
So you know what I do? I go to my comfort subgenres. The ones which litter my bookcases and my favorite books of all time belong to. But then something else happens. I get a bit bored. I feel like the plot is tired and overdone or unimaginative. I feel surprisingly just as unsatisfied as when I pick up a book in something that I didn’t think I’d like.
Am I the only one? I can’t be!
It’s like I am stuck between the funky smell of my old favorite blanket that just won’t go away and the tons of new blankets that just irritate my skin. I feel like Cinderella who wants to wear anything but glass and finding that nothing else fits. Or maybe I’m Goldilocks who stumbled upon the two bears who didn’t have a third to balance them out. Ok, maybe with these analogies I’m just…dare I say it…reading too much.
What do you think?