This is one of my favourite times of year. So to celebrate, I’ve dug deep and found some awfully specific, monstrous confessions. Let’s jump right in:
- I’ve mentioned before, but I don’t take good care of my books– I write in them, I dogear the pages, I don’t (always) care if the spines are creased- still the vast majority are second hand, so #noguilt
- I had a lot of firsts with Harry Potter, some of which may not be so popular… As some of you may know Harry Potter was the first “big” book I read, introducing me to the wonderful world of books when I was seven… but that’s not where the story ended and that’s not the only impact it had on my reading journey. You see, I’m actually sentimental about Harry Potter for a reason that might be sacrilegious to some: it’s also the first book I critiqued (#sorrynotsorry). Annnd even this little fact is enough to get me in trouble, so I’ll leave that there (can you tell I’m a little afraid? 😉 )
- I stopped reading historical fiction for two years at one point. And since this is a confessions piece, I’m gonna be brutally honest: it was cos I was so scarred by Phillipa Gregory (and irritated by the historical inaccuracy in her books). I know that’s harsh, but it was especially harsh on me, cos I love a good piece of historical fiction. Of course, I stupidly picked up another Gregory book not so long ago… I never learn! Gah!
- I’ve never read an Agatha Christie book and I don’t plan to– it’s a niggling thing that I probably should, but at the same time I have no desire to pick one up no matter how many times I see it in the library.
- I’m to blame for spreading Twilight round my year like a plague. This was unintentional- but I can never avoid the fact it was *my* copies of Twilight that did the rounds in my school. Oops.
- I don’t always cry at sad books– I was dried eyed over The Fault in Our Stars and even in the notoriously devastating Me Before You– which I sobbed over- I cried at the *wrong* part. Highlight for spoiler: not the part when he dies, but when she’s raped earlier in the book.
- I answered a question on an exam once for a book I hadn’t read… because, you know, I hadn’t revised properly. And do you know what? I actually did just fine in that exam. Maybe the other sections pulled up the grade- but I distinctly remember that exam getting progressively more awful. (Of course I bluffed in class too, but I feel like this is slightly worse)
- I have *a lot* of different Fairy Tale anthologies– for instance I have 4 of Grimms alone… Normally I’m pretty good with book doubles- since I got my Shakespeare compendium, I’ve gotten rid of all other copies except a nice one of Richard II. BUT when it comes to Fairy Tales, there’s no limit to the number of copies I have/want. I mean there’s totally reasons for this: some of them are collectibles, others have different essays at the back, and I feel like with translations you need several versions to see which one you like (at least that’s my opinion- when I did Classics at uni, I generally felt it helped to have a minimum of three translations in front of you- especially if you were doing a close reading) So yeah… totally justifiable… (help me out here, I’m floundering a little 😉 )
- I cannot always read books that hit too close to home– yeah I know we should read outside our comfort zone, but if a book is actually on a subject I know a lot about, I will (somewhat subconsciously) avoid it.
- I deliberately spoiled myself for the Mortal Instruments. I’m not even sorry I did this one, cos to be honest I *cannot* read books about incest. And obviously I did not think Clare was really gonna go in that direction, but I still had to find out for sure so I could be safe. The bad part about this was that once I checked it wasn’t actually the case, I still continued reading spoilers, cos I got a little hooked- so yeahhh, I spoiled a huge amount of that series for myself. Whoopsy daisy.
Okay, so now’s the time you can publically condemn/commend me! Were any of these particularly shocking? (so much so you can no longer look at my monkey face) Do you relate? Or do you have any oddly specific bookish confessions of your own? Let me know in the comments!