the crap i read

I have never been much of a reader. I enjoyed being read-to, but reading big ol' thick books has never really been for me. I don't have much of an imagination. No, really, it's true- I watch movies that take place in other "worlds" such as Lord of the Rings, Narnia, or Harry Potter and I just leave feeling confused. I watch movies that don't have predictable endings and often feel frustrated. As for books, I remember having to read novels in school and let me just say, I failed one too many "pop quizzes" on the reading assignments. I would join in class conversations after someone had offered their opinion by simply building off of their ideas (I found with all that fantasy stuff you can make up whatever opinion you want because it's not real anyway).

I know this is all very terrible, but it has just never really held my attention. I just, don't, get it. Period pieces often bore me, fantasy confuses me, and self-help books just make me feel self-loathing for all the thing I lack. I desire so much to read books by Christian authors who offer encouragement and conviction through their words. I can't tell you how many of these kinds of books I have started and never finished. The Sacred Romance- great... for the first 6 chapters. The Five Love Languages- I only got through 4. Velvet Elvis- I didn't get deep enough into that one to realize what that title even meant. I would truly love, to love reading. The idea seems so romantic- curling up with a blanket and a cup of tea and reading one of the classics. I was an English major in college for about a minute. I took a few of the appropriate classes and after reading nine of Shakespeare's plays in depth, I realized I wasn't so much cut out for that kind of thing.

There is one author whose books I read cover to cover usually within 3 or 4 days and I have, in fact, read almost everything he has written. Plane rides, beach lounging, late night insomnia-- I turn to the same stuff over and over. If you don't already know this about me let me confess- the crap I read is Nicholas Sparks. Now, calling it "crap" is no blow to Nicholas, I think he is talented (obviously) and probably the nicest most feeling man ever. But, his books have a common theme- always- there are two (sometimes more) people in love, they live in North Carolina and they meet some adversity that will threaten to end their love forever. Often a character dies and often I throw the book on the ground when it's over and think "that was stupid." Nevertheless, I can't stop reading him. Why? Because I like the way he writes, mostly they are believable and predictable stories, and I don't have to get accustomed to a far off land that appears in a wardrobe, or believe in a portal that takes you to a secret school, or even believe that though a couple is in love they can't be together because he wants to feast on her for dinner- But North Carolina, I can wrap my brain around that.

Don't get me wrong, I only read a couple a year, I am still no star reader. Though, I have been reading a lot lately (kind of). In the past week and a half I have really been pumping out the slightly melancholy yet feel-good musings of Nicholas Sparks. Something about reading allows my mind to think of something that is totally unreal and unrelated to me and I create this concern for people that don't even exist- like an escape maybe. Hmmm, come to think of it, maybe this is why you people read... fantasy novels even...