I recently made a semi-serious promise to myself that I will read nothing but non-fiction for the next one month.
Semi-serious only because I didn’t believe I was actually going to do it.
Do you know how addicts crave their drugs till they can think of almost nothing else? Reading popular fiction has become a similar sort of addiction for me.
I can seriously think of nothing else when the craving for one of those books start. My cravings are genre-specific too. Sometimes I need a Regency romance a la G. Heyer; sometimes it’s YA, particularly of the high school romance variety; often I really need to read an action packed Urban Fantasy [think: Dresden Files, Kate Daniels] – (never paranormal romance, thank you, I’ve learnt my lesson – there are no high standards in that world); and then there is the odd craving for the quirky contemporary romances and mysteries; also sometimes I notice a really awesome looking cover – most probably in High Fantasy – and run towards it heedlessly.
Okay, you’ve shaken your head and laughed at me enough. It’s a serious disease. It compliments my pathological laziness (another serious disease) perfectly. Together they have made my academic life come to a grinding halt. My profs hates me.
Anyway, below is a random list of books that are waiting for me in my kindle if I can only get through the next month without tripping up – then I can then enjoy them
guilt free less guiltily.
Okay, Krugman doesn’t count as popular fiction. (does he?) 😉 Anyway, I love the guy. He can write really engrossing books. But apart from him I have two Terry Pratchetts, three new netgalley offerings (one of which is from Anne Rice) and the much lauded debut novel Shatter Me by Mafi.
Actually, I’ve read about a third of Shatter Me already. I read it quickly with little thought to the time and soon found that I had devoured a large chunk of it. The writing is that good.
And there’s a reason I put so much emphasis on ‘writing’ just now. It’s because it took me that long – nearly a half of the book – to realize that the beautiful, fluid, almost lyrical writing was the only thing making me read the book till then.
It was not the story – at least not the story revealed so far. Because that story is just, plain ordinary. Not to mention filled with potholes. So, I have left it for now – I’ll see if I suddenly develop an urge to know how things ended and finish it after all.
So. To conclude.
I need help.