I like to classify stuff, you know, organize and label. And this rings true for my bookshelves as well. Some books are great for rainy days, and others are perfect murder mysteries to read on that long flight or a weekend at the cottage.
But I have other labels too *lowers voice* ones I'm not proud of. These are my book confessions.
Confession #1. The Book I Stole From The Library
Frog and Toad Are Friends
Okay, I know stealing is wrong and this is no excuse, but I was in grade two and it was raining heavily that day. I dropped the book in the puddle where it sucked up a gallon of water. The thing swelled like Harry Potter's Aunt Marge.
I stashed the thick mess under my bed, hoping it would somehow magically fix itself before it was due back at the library.
However, back then (1978) I guess the librarian at my school was so distracted by the approaching summer vacation and its promises of tanned cabana boys or whatever she did in the off season—that she never came looking for that book. Frog and Toad Are Friends is still mine to this day.
Confession #2. The Book I Pretend To Have Read
I was thirteen. The first three paragraphs were about a gnarled tree stump. I haven't picked it up since.
Confession #3. The Book I've Read The Most
This is kind of two confessions in one, because my artsy fartsy answer is Pride and Prejudice (read eight times), but the real answer is Harry Potter and The Philosopher's Stone (read ten times).
Confession #4. The Book I Never Finished
Mr. Churchill's Secretary
Okay, there are several titles that fit this category, but this mystery novel is the most recent I haven't been able to finish. I kept falling asleep. I stuck it out until page 110, but I couldn't get any farther. I'm going to try again someday, you know when a bout of insomnia hits.
Confession #5. The Book In Which I'm Totally In Love With One of the Characters
Pride and Prejudice
Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy.
Confession #6. Book I Bought Purely Because Of The Cover
This was when angels falling from the sky wearing only tight jeans was something of a novelty. Now you can't go for a walk without getting hit by one of those suckers.
Confession #7. The Book I Will Never Read
Fifty Shades of Grey
Life is too short. I read a few paragraphs composed mainly of the main character asking herself questions and biting her lower lip. That was enough for me.
Confession #8. The Book I Will Never Recommend
Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell
It's on my bookshelf as a testament to how stubborn a reader I can be. That sucker weighed in at 782 pages. Although there is one memorable scene, that only accounts for two of those 782 pages. I heard that it's been optioned for a movie. Good, choose that option instead.
Sorry, I hate being a critic, but confession is good for the soul. Let me know your answers!