Is it just me or does anyone else ever get depressed when you browse the New Books shelves at the local library and find a book you love just sitting there, begging to be checked out and meanwhile knowing that thousands of people are re-reading the horrifically bad Twilight novels for the hundred and fiftieth time?
Look, I have nothing against the Twilight novels other than they’re poorly written featuring characters who make me want to reach into the page and slap them as hard as I can (Bella, especially) and a storyline that’s a blatant and terrible rip-off of the Buffy and Angel storyline, only without the depth or subtext. But it just pains me sometimes to know that people are re-reading these again and again when the new Laura Lippman novel is just sitting there, begging to be read. Or that Ready Player One is sitting on the shelves and that it’s one of the more fun, engaging and entertaining books I’ve read in a while. Oh sure, it’s not terribly deep and it’s not going to be mistaken for great literature any time soon, but it’s still a fun read that I’d highly recommend to just about anyone.
Does this make me a book snob? Or even more of one that I think I am?
The sad answer is, probably so.