Booking Through Thursday is a meme created at the blog of the same name that poses a different question about reading each week.
This week’s questions is: What book(s) have you read that you’re secretly ashamed to admit?
I feel rather sheepish when I admit that I quite enjoyed the Twilight series on the first go-around (and they still remain on my bookshelf). Thankfully, I never feel the urge to reread them. Many of the historical romances that I’ve read throughout the years have caused me shame, but that’s usually due more to the fact that so many of them have embarassing covers than to the actual content.
I don’t tend to feel much shame for the books that I read. I’m an advocate for my reading choices, for the most part; as long as you’re reading something, I usually find that there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Usually, the only times that I feel reticent to admit to reading something is after popular culture attaches a media-related stigma to it. I never felt that Meyer’s writing was stellar (or even good), yet I would have had no problem admitting to reading the books before the movie franchise reached epic heights of teenage obsession. Now, I’m a bit more hesitant to reveal my association with the series not necessarily because of Meyer’s abilities, but rather because of the ridiculousness that the films represent. Still, I’m a proponent of pride in reading, whether your choice winds up providing true literary merit or something more akin to shallow entertainment.