Anyone who knows me, knows I read a lot. And I mean a lot. I actually didn't mind the 3 am feedings when my toddler was first born, because I could nurse her in one arm and turn the pages in my book with the other (and if I had a Kindle book, I was over the moon!). I did mind the sleep deprivation, but the actual act of getting up and nursing was made better because I could read a book.
Now, just because I read a lot, doesn't mean I'm super smart or an intellectual or even above average on the intelligence spectrum. (I do, however, have a really fancy vocabulary where I use words like spectrum in blog posts. Its fun.) No, I'm pretty much your average kind of girl because, even though I am always reading something, I am often times reading junk.
Now, in literature and in life, what's good and what's junk is totally in the eye of the beholder. However, there is a certain stigma amongst the bookworms of the world on what is considered 'good' literature and what is just junk. Anything written by authors named Dickens, Austen, Shakespeare or Salinger is considered literature, but anything with a cover featuring shoes, lipstick or jewelry is considered chick lit.
Yes, I am an avid chick lit reader. I love it. I love the sassiness, I love the absurd relationships, I love the ridiculous plot lines. Because, when all is said and done, I like to have an escape from the absurdities of reality, and chick lit provides me with that escape.
That's not to say that I only read junk. When Entertainment Weekly
released its 100 Greatest Books of All Time
list last week, I was rather proud that I had read a quarter of them, and intended to read at least a quarter more in the next few years. But reading lists like that tend to send me down a small shame spiral with the feeling that I am squandering my brain on unchallenging drivel. Which I don't believe is true either.
I think there needs to be a balance. One can't live on dessert all the time (as much as my niece tries to convince me that she can, I know better. And so does the outfit she once threw up all over after a few too many cookies.) While I will count the days until the latest Janet Evanovich novel comes out, I do try read at least one "classic" every month or so (and now that I have that handy list, I may even up the amount). I just tend to find the lighter "classics". While The Road
got great reviews and sounds like it was very well written, I'm just not up to post-apocalyptical reading right now. Unless its a funny apocalypse. Maybe in a few years when I've grown up a little more. In the meantime, I've got a new book count down going on. Four words: William Shakespeare's Star Wars
Is your mind blown yet? What's your reading guilty pleasure?