My Reading Habits

I would probably be the last person to say that I am proud of my book reading habits, though in the same regard I cannot say that I detest them (however awful they may be). I am by no means the ‘super reader’: spacing out schoolbooks perfectly, reading cover-to-cover, and analyzing the deeper, social message alluded to by the author. In fact 2 years ago I had to read the 700-page summer reading book in 4 days, until recently I read the ending of a book first to make sure that I would like it, and most of the books I read are not complex enough to need analyzing. So, why is it that, given the above, I don’t absolutely abhor my reading habits? Simple: when I find a book I like, I am every authors dream.

There is not one particular genre that I read, my literary choices are more strongly based upon the writing style. I can easily be sold on any story as long as it’s written in a way that I can connect with. For example I love the Stephanie Meyer books, how ever childish they may be. This love is not simply based on a fascination with forbidden romance or vampires, I have picked up many books which Barnes and Nobel promised ‘If You Like Stephanie Meyer Books You’ll Love These’ and honestly couldn’t make it past the first page. Also, I greatly enjoyed her other book, which falls under sci-fi rather than supernatural because it is written in the same style as the others.

Moving away from the silly teen-dramas I have recently fallen in love with the magical-realism tale: One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Marques. I am absolutely fascinated by the way that I can stumble blindly through the pages, the words turning into a jumbled mess as they enter my head, and then in a split second half way through the next chapter the entire thing will make sense. I have to agree with many critics that this is a book that should be read by everyone for, while utterly confusing, the way Marques writes is incredibly unique, the story he weaves is outstandingly intricate, and his mix of the unreal with the real is flawless to such a degree that they become one in the same.

With books like the aforementioned my reading habits are outstanding. I will come home for work, immediately get ready for bed, and read until I’m falling asleep. I will re-read a section if some aspect of it didn’t make sense the first time, I typically find a friend who has also read it to discuss what I did and didn’t like about it, I mull over certain scenes contemplating what the author could have done better and when it’s all said and done and will recommend it to any one and everyone that I know, often times loaning out my personal copy. This phenomena occurs very seldom, however, because I very rarely find a book that I like enough to read past the first chapter.