There's no excuse for me being up so late. Such an irregular sleeping pattern...something's gotta change.
Anyway, the pros and cons of reading books. Or a series of books. And not just any kind of book. The girly, chick-flick-esque, makes your heart melt kind of book.
Con: The waiting. You have to wait for the next book to come out. And of course, the last book is always dangling off the edge of a cliff. Or, you know, a cliffhanger. I should know better than anyone...you can't rush good writing! (and good publishing, for that matter.) But still, doesn't stop me from wanting to rack authors' brains, and find out what they have in mind for their characters. Especially when the next book won't come out for another year. And when you want to wait yet another year for the book to be released in paperback. Darn you, bad economy and wanting to save money.
Pro: The reading. The aforementioned - makes your heart melt, makes you think perhaps one day you'll be her, makes you want to fall head over heels in love and live happily ever after, makes you believe in every single fairytale known to mankind (and then some), makes you feel mushy and gushy and gooey and any other word ending in -y, makes those butterflies rage around in your stomach like you're actually experiencing what's happening, makes you think these things really do exist and can happen to me - kind of reading. Yeah.
Con: The number of books. It's great if it's a sequel. Even better if it's a trilogy. I'll even take a four book series. (Do they have a name for that?) But 8? 11?? And still more to come?!?!?!?!?!? Seriously. It's a little too much. It's great, don't get me wrong - and I'm sure the story couldn't have been condensed into something smaller...but still. Like I said before, I really wish the author would just tell me everything that isn't going to happen so I won't have an aneurysm trying to figure it out. What can I say? I'm a naturally impatient person...in some aspects of my life. Like this one.
Pro: The imagination. The fact that I'm so lost in this book, I feel like I am that spy-in-training at Gallagher Academy, going on secret missions, sneaking out of the mansion to dig up some more dirt, lost in the world of trying to figure out who I can trust, and who I am. The fact that reading about this, living in this life, makes me wonder if there really isn't a school like Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Woman somewhere in the world, in present day. I am someone who sucks at imagining things beyond the scope of what I know. So I marvel at things like this...and I marvel...how in the world do people come up with these stories?? It's amazing.
I'd write some more...but maybe another time. All I know is right now, right this moment, I wish I had all of the books in the series (especially the ones only locked up in Ally Carter's brain), so I could lay to rest the story of Cammie Morgan, and Cammie and Zach, and what truly happened to Cammie's father (who I firmly believe is still alive).
I love reading. I really do. And when the story's like this, I can't complain. But sometimes I wonder...if I hadn't always been such an avid reader of young adult/chick-lit novels, would I be the same person? Would I hold the same expectations as I do now for my life, my love life, my personality, my needs/wants/goals/desires? Would I be a hopeless romantic, still waiting for my Prince Charming to knock me off my feet?
On another note: my teeth hurt. I think (no, I pray) it's because those Crest Whitening Strips really do make them sensitive, after all. Otherwise...it's a trip to the dreaded dentist's office for me! More cavities, no doubt in my mind. I really hate dentists. Or teeth. Or just my teeth, or the genetics that gave me these teeth.
No comments:
Post a Comment