Hello, hello! How’s everyone doing this first Wednesday of December? I’ve been procrastinating writing this even though I already know the topic. I just have no motivation. Like usual. Anyway, it’s time to continue with the number thingie! The wonderful Heather Vendetti picked 3 for this week. I’ve answered 13 (you can find the prompt list there), 7, 2, and 8 so far. Numbers 10, 6, 14, 11, and 1 are all coming eventually. This week’s prompt is “Tell me which book had a profound effect on you as an adult.” Eh… let’s see what I can ramble about for this.
Honestly, I feel like I should have some kind of mature answer for this. Like I should pick one of those books that no one actually enjoys, but say they do to impress their pretentious asshat friends. The Great Gatsby, which I’ve read three times and will never understand why people insist it’s good. Anything by James Joyce. I bought a used copy of his short stories for class and have never agreed with a margin note more than the one at the end of “The Dead” where the person drew a rainbow coming out from behind a cloud with the caption “Hallelujah, it’s over!” Shakespeare, though I admit he’s grown on me. He’s a pervert and super over dramatic, so that’s fun. But people get so serious about him and I’m just sitting here giggling at the dick jokes. C’mon. But yeah, I’m not coming up with any serious answers for this question.
I read the Percy Jackson books when I was in my 20s. Does that count? Is it adult enough? At least I don’t think I was 30 yet. Who knows. But they were awesome and entertaining and I kind of want to read them again. They helped shape my interest in mixing mythology with YA coming of age stories. It wasn’t a life changing thing, but those books have influenced some of my writing.
The only other books I can think of that have stuck with me fairly recently are The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater (that book made me ugly cry in the best way), Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell, and the Simon Snow books (also by Rowell). I guess you can tell I read a lot of YA for an old lady. It’s not something I’m ashamed of, but none of it seems like things that have any profound effects on me either. I just like reading and writing about angsty teens/young adults making stupid decisions before getting their happily ever afters. Preferably with some kind of monster/demon/supernatural being involved. I like other genres too (cozy mysteries for example), but they don’t seem to stick with me in the same way.
So, a handful of books have stuck with me as an adult, but I don’t have any profound insight as to why. I just like what I like. Ask me again in ten years and maybe I’ll have a better answer (I doubt it). What about you? Have any books scarred you as an adult? As always, feel free to leave your thoughts and comments and questions here or on my social media pages!