Maybe She’s a Reader

If you’ve been hanging around this blog for a while, you might remember a time when I was an avid reader. I used to read 2-3 books a week until I turned 40, and something weird happened to me. 

Well, I’m 42 now, and I’m happy to report that I’ve recently read a few books! In fact, I’ve read four so far this year and have three more well under way! I hope I’m turning a new leaf, and that I’ll be able to figure out who I am again (I’ve been a bit lost the past two years), but I don’t want to jump the gun. I also don’t want to abuse any cliches, so perhaps I’ll stop with the idioms now.

As I’m dabbling in reading again, I’ve been doing some maintenance work on my “to read” list. Whenever I request book recommendations, people always ask, “Well, what kind of books do you like?” which is exactly what I do when someone asks me about books. I never know how to answer, though, because I like many genres and types of books. It’s actually easier for me to tell you what I don’t like in books:

I don’t care for books that take place on ships or boats. 

I’m not a fan of mythology.

I’ve not taken much to magical realism.

I rarely enjoy books written in letter format. 

I don’t care much for books within books (i.e. when a character has written a book or is reading a book, and that book is written within the book). 

I sometimes struggle with coming of age and slow burn.

I immediately become judgmental if the main character’s name is Nora.

I’m not really interested in books where sports or athletic achievement are significant. 

I prefer stand alone novels to series (I didn’t used to feel this way, but as I’ve gotten older, I’ve become less interested in series). 

I’m very picky about fantasy and anything supernatural. 

I don’t enjoy stories with long journeys because it’s just travel, problem, travel, problem, over and over until the end. And whether that’s trying to take a ring to Mordor or the toys trying to get back to Andy (I have the same problem with movies), I get annoyed with the pattern. 

I rarely like anything rated less than 3.8 on Goodreads (that’s one of my deciding factors when researching a book to add to my list). 

I prefer books that are under 400 (ish) pages.

Now that probably makes everyone terrified to ever recommend a book to me, but there are always exceptions, so sometimes I’ll still read something that might not seem like my cup of tea (oh shoot, the cliches are back). There are always surprises! And who knows! After two years, maybe my tastes have actually changed! I guess we’ll see if I can keep up with reading now that I’m so old and wise!

Currently reading:

Slow burn, coming of age, and 579 pages long, but no ships or Noras so far.