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It Was a Very Good Year
August 9, 2007

Yesterday I met up with a friend, Cindy, who I met online a couple of years ago through the Femailers group (online group that helps newbies and single RT convention goers by offering suggestions, support and companionship) while hoping to make it to a convention in Florida (unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be).   Cindy went though and brought me back a ton of goodies.  This time I returned the favor since she couldn't make it.

We were at Panera's and I fired up my computer to show her pictures of the Romantic Times Booklovers Convention and Romance Writers of America Convention.   Then we perused the upcoming convention offerings, discussing the attending authors and seminars to be held.  Being the kind of person I am, I leaned over to the twenty something woman sitting alone the next table and asked her who and what she read.  She said nonfiction (my least favorite since they don't always have a "happily ever after").  After a lively discussion, it became obvious that we each had our own version of what constitutes the best reads.  Cindy mentioned that in her twenties she also read nonfiction and I reluctantly agreed that there was a time I actually did enjoy nonfiction (I still shutter when I think of Alive by Piers Paul Read about the rugby team's survival of a plane crash in the Andes that resulted in cannibalism.  Of course, at age 23, it was a pretty cool read that everyone was talking about.  Now...ewww).

Thinking back on my life, there were times when I would definitely focus on a single genre with the temperment of a pit bull.

In my teens, it was all about the spies.  I relished every Ian Fleming 007 book and would supplement them with The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (United Network Command for Law Enforcement...nerd alert) "Affair of.." books (Illya Kuryakin was sooo hot!!).

My twenties were filled with mystery.  Agatha Christie, Erle Stanley Gardner, Ellery Queen.  I considered myself a young Miss Marple and loved figuring out "who dun it?"  Of course, with the childbearing years came the nonfiction,  What to Expect when Expecting, anything by Dr. Spock, and books on raising a genius.  (Now that I'm a grandma, I realize that nothing beats common sense when raising a child...wait, that would make a great book "Raising a Genius using Common Sense.")

During my married thirties, my husband and I were big into series.  We owned and read all the Edgar Rice Bouroughs Tarzan books (don't scoff, they were great!)  and John Carter of Mars (which we started calling Tarzan of Mars because of all the similarities).  My DH may have taken it too far when he and brother in law Phil made an 8 mm Tarzan movie (think black and white silent film...this was way before digital movie cameras) while we were camping that had a 10 year old girl acting like a crazed gorilla and our 5 year old son as the Mighty Hunter.  I'm surprised we weren't asked to leave the campground, but the movie is a classic.

A divorce in my forties sent me back to college, so my reading became filled with Toni Morrison's Song of Solomon, Nathaniel Hawthorne's Scarlet Letter and more depressing books than I can shake a stick at.  On my own I discovered much needed strong women like Kinsey Millhone (Sue Grafton), Kay Scarpetta (Patricia Cornwell) and Temperance Brennan (Kathy Reichs).

In my current decade, I've found that romance doesn't have to be one dimensional.  When added to suspense, mystery, paranormal, science fiction, thriller, urban fantasy, historical or humor, along with my own imagination, it just makes the whole story come together.  Kind of like my life.

Bottom line:  So whatever "year" of reading you're in...it is a very good year.  (Cue Frank Sinatra)

Posted by Barbara Vey on August 9, 2007 | Comments (5)