Excuse Me For Reading...What I Like

My 10th grade English teacher suggested I study English literature in University. I didn’t. I chose instead to take poetry and creative writing courses in college. The poetry class was a lot more interesting than I expected, and when I combined what I learned there with what I learned in the philosophy courses I also took, and along with the fact that I was still a teenager...well...you can just imagine the profound, reflective, and at times, even melancholic poems I put together.

Anyway.

So poetry class was cool. But I was much more excited when my creative writing class was set to begin. Until it started. Then I wasn’t as excited anymore. The professor just ruined it for me. He was...hmm...how shall I put it? Oh, yeah...a literary snob! A real ass, if I’m going to be honest. He poked fun at those reading anything other than the classics. Scoffed at the very idea. His advice was that no one should waste whatever precious time they have in this life on crappy books. Only the unsophisticated do that.

Which meant that because I was scandalously enjoying books from ‘crappy’ writers like Stephen King, Sidney Sheldon, Judith Krantz, Mary Higgins Clark, Ed McBain, Agatha Christie, Erich Segal, Irwin Shaw, Robin Cook, S.E. Hinton, Jacqueline Susann, Arthur Hailey, Colleen McCullough, to name a few, at the time, I qualified as a literary loser. Not that I ever admitted I read these authors. No one in the class did. But I suspect that I wasn’t the only one who did this. And kept it secret. There were probably many others like me who liked being spooked by the latest Stephen King novel, and who even dreamed of being that successful a writer. But we all ‘pretended’ we didn’t. To avoid ridicule.

What a load of ‘crap’.  No one needs to apologize for what they enjoy reading. I’ve had my nose in a book from the moment I was able to put together my first sentence, which was probably “See Jane Run”. And from that point on, I’ve never stopped reading. I’ve flipped though pages of comic books, magazines and a slew of book genres: adventure, photography, art, memoir, biography, food, science fiction, true crime, fiction, non-fiction, gardening, mystery, spirituality, psychology, fantasy, suspense, thrillers, horror, philosophy...more. And yes, I’ve even read classics.

These readers have to stop being so judgmental. It’s one thing to be a selective reader (someone who has a preference for particular reading material, but does not disrespect individuals for their reading preferences), and another to be a snobbish reader (someone who thinks they read more intelligently and snubs others for their pitiable choices).

Puh-lease...

As far as I’m concerned, if you enjoy reading, you’re already ahead of the game. Because reading, in and of itself, engages the mind, exercises the brain, improves reading and grammar skills, expands vocabulary, stimulates the imagination and – depending on what you’re reading – builds a sense of humour. But above all, it should be enjoyable. And I, for one, will not force myself to read only classics simply because they’re more ‘sophisticated’, some of which are as dull as dishwater. I read books for their entertainment value. I read to relax. To escape to another world. To travel. Laugh. Even cry. And to say “Damn, that was a good read” when I’m done.

So stay on your side of the bookshelf, literary snobs, and let me read my ‘crappy’ books in peace.

And then there's grumpy cat's thoughts on books...