I love to read. Anything. Everything. It doesn’t matter.
Due to this fact, I envisioned having some posts on here with book reviews. What better place to share my passion! Oh what fun we could have talking about literature!
Until I realized something … I have terrible taste in books. Scratch that, I have no taste at all. I love everything from Great Expectations to Sweet Valley High (why, oh why, wasn’t I born a twin?!) Thus, my reviews would be completely useless.
In my mind book reviews should go something like this:
::Twinkly dream sequence music:: Picture me sitting by a fire, in a leather wingback chair, nodding sagely, cleaning my monocle – “Mmmm. Yes. The juxtaposition of the themes about the different natures of good and evil made for an enthralling journey that was only marred by the author’s inability to alliterate in an appealingly appropriate attitude.” Thoughtful silence.
Me bouncing around like a small child – “THIS BOOK WAS SO GOOD! So good. Oh, the story! The love! I laughed! I cried! I lost my monocle I was so excited!!FIVE STARS!! TWO THUMBS UP!!! SQUEEEE!!!” There’s very little silence in my world. Thoughtful or otherwise.
So. I will probably write about books that are "OMG IT’S SO PERFECT YOU HAVE TO READ IT RIGHT NOW OR YOUR SOUL WILL DIE." Don’t believe it. It will only be true, like, ten percent of the time.