So I read the Twilight Series. And the woman I borrowed those books from had a drawer full (yes a drawer, not a shelf) of romance novels. Romance Novels. And I took them. And I picked up one to read.
In one of my senior seminars in college, a girl read romance novels and wrote a paper on them--I can't remember what conclusions she drew. I do remember how the rest of us important English majors laughed at her. Romance novels? Smut.
But I like it. This book is actually not that poorly written. I mean, there are moments that are silly. I can't take any kind of written sex seriously. But overall, I was really surprised by the quality of the writing.
And I don't hardly know what to do with myself.
What is wrong with me? Have I been out of college too long? I'm going to have to dive into some Dickens very soon, just to edify myself. Or Austen.
But then, there are those books that I can't get into. I love mystery novels, but there are two popular series that I have tried to read. I used to think that too many writing classes had ruined my ability to enjoy reading.
Now, I'm not too sure...
1 comment:
LOL! that made me laugh so hard for some reason. I can just imagine what a class full of English majors would think of a report on romance novels.
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