Can Of Worms Opened
On Twitter, I
opened my mouth typed out that I needed some dating advice: Potential guy has AWFUL taste in literature (i.e. Koontz, King, and Grisham). Can I learn to love that?
Who knew this would open up a can of nightcrawlers that Dr. Zoidberg was waiting to devour?
Quite a few of you responded with words along the lines of, “What’s wrong with Koontz and King?”
That came after I received the response, “At least he reads.”
I will admit, I am a reading snob. Having been an avid reader since kindergarten (I was always one of the top readers in the class), I find it hard to believe that someone must be convinced to read. And to make it worse, I have grown picky about the authors I read: Miller, Nin, Murakami, Fitzgerald, Vonegut, Tanizaki, and Burroughs to name a few.
(The Anti-Reading Protest I participated in was simply for fun. We were bored and I have some very eccentric friends.)
I have to admit, my standards have gotten even higher as of late: many of my friends are excellent writers and therefore add to my prejudice. My skills next to theirs would be similar comparing The New York Times to TMZ.com.