My Ironic Truth

Part of being a writer is reading.  That is painfully obvious.  Reading gives an author the tools necessary to equip him or her to do the job.  That said, I find it difficult to find things to read regularly that I enjoy because I’m pretty picky.

I can spend quite a while reading reviews and scrolling through books in genres that interest me, but rarely am I wowed by something.  I like originality, hope, and meaning in stories as I’ve indicated in past blogs.  That doesn’t mean characters have to be perfect, on the contrary, I  like them to have flaws, but not when those flaws are used to create senseless tension.  For example, one series I read a few years ago had a character fight and pine for a female.  When he finally wins her heart, and marries her he cheats, without a believable motive to do so.  It appeared that the entire point of the secondary romance was to create a forced sense of suspense.  As indicated, the character had no real motivation and that’s what bothered me.  I know cheating happens, and characters can do it to add depth, but there must be a believable reason for it.

I know quality books are out there, but due to limited time I continue to be picky about my choices.  I fully admit that it is partially a personality quirk of mine.  However, my search for books that live up to the fiction classics continues.   For it is the classics that I tend to enjoy the most, yet I know there are good stories out there, I only need to find more of them.

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