I wanted to like The Lord of the Rings. I really did. I gave it a real go. Read the first hundred pages. I just couldn’t get into it and finally switched it for a Gena Showalter novel.
I’ve often wondered if my lack of interest in society’s ideas of really great authors will lead to my downfall as a writer.
In my mind, authors devour books by Tolkien, Dickens, and Austen. They read nonfiction as often as fiction. They quote Shakespeare and Faulkner in their works. Recite Yeats and Frost by the light of the fire. Host dinner parties and say fabulous literary things at the table that have guests smiling and nodding, whispering among themselves “no wonder she’s a successful author”.
I’m just not that person.
What does it say about me, as an author, that I only enjoy books written no less than thirty years ago?