I’m not a picky reader. I love books for their little papery selves, mostly irrespective of genre. Romance, horror (my first love <3), thriller, sci-fi, erotica, crime, historical, mystery, general fic… I’ll read ’em all.
Well, I’ll read them all if I live to 983 which is the age at which, according to my calculations, I’ll finish my TBR pile. Assuming it stops growing now. Which it won’t, because after I write this I’m going onto Goodreads to answer a PM and will leave with 233 new books on my list.
The one genre I do avoid, as a rule, is fantasy. There are some fantasy novels I love–mostly ones I read in childhood that left a lingering nostalgic comfort, like Harry Potter, and His Dark Materials–but I don’t seek out new fantasies to read. Especially a certain type of fantasy with sword-waving elves that say things like, “My destiny awaits!… after a tankard of mead, good Barkeep.”
Why are you closing the book, Anna? I’m dressed appropriately for battle and it’s totally feasible that I can destroy a phalanx of evil orcs with my magical sword before flying off on my dragon to make merry with twelve saucy wenches in a bath of mead… using my other magical sword ifyouknowwhatImean wink wink.
I am, however, friends with many fantasy authors including A.S. Akkalon who I talk about in my blog all the time but I’M NOT OBSESSED, OKAY? That restraining order is a pack of damn lies.
Back in the heady days of April we agreed on a swap: I would read a fantasy of her choice if she read a horror of my choice.
I chose for her The Rats by James Herbert, in which a mischief of mutated, man-eating rats, well… eat men. Click to read her post, 15 things a fantasy author learned reading horror. I chose THE RATS because:
- It’s on the short side at 65k words.
- She refuses to swear on her blog and I wanted to see how she’d review a book in which dozens of people are eaten alive and a woman inserts a bottle someplace no bottle should ever go (she sidestepped it like the evil, clean-mouthed genius she is, dammit).
- The author is not only a bestseller but also dead, so she can be as honest as she likes about it.
She chose me a book that shall remain nameless because I can’t even pretend I enjoyed it and I’m not gonna be mean about another author’s work. Unless they’re the people who write Will and Grace who, frankly, deserve to be taught a good lesson by Vlad the Impaler.
All I’ll say is that it’s a special book. Special like that kid in school who spent every playtime setting fire to ants and growled if you came near him.
What did I learn from this experience? Romance and fantasy have a lot in common.
1. Semen can be its own character.