I am a one-book-at-a-time reader. An in bed, before I go to sleep, reader. An every single night, no matter what, reader. Most of the time, an ebook reader. A reader of general fiction, memoir, true crime, not-true crime, mystery and detective novels, historical fiction. Not so much science fiction or horror, although I have been known to enjoy books involving time travel and mysterious plagues. I never quite outgrew my teenaged interest in books about illness, addiction, recovery. I am particularly drawn to books about families, relationships, marriage. And Mormon fundamentalists.
I used to finish every book I started. Now, I occasionally determine that life is just too short. But it is still pretty rare for me to quit a book.
I tend not to write reader reviews, or even to give ratings (although I sometimes feel guilty about that). But who am I to say whether a book is “good” or “bad”? How I respond to a book has almost everything to do with what is going on with me at the time. Occasionally, something about a book so irritates me that I can’t stop myself from dashing off a rant about it. And I almost always regret it.
A book that just didn’t work for me is The Secret History, by Donna Tartt. Tons of people loved it, including many people whose opinions I truly respect and whose taste in books overlaps with mine in a big way. Because I was pretty sure that it was me, and not the book, my reaction to The Secret History didn’t stop me from reading The Goldfinch, which I loved. So there you go. Not everything works for everybody. And sometimes it’s just the wrong book at the wrong time.
There are lots of books out there. More than any one of us can read in a lifetime. My favorite way to discover new (to me) books is by finding out what people are reading. That way, I can check it out and decide if it is for me. So let’s do that.
