My co-workers and I discuss this a lot. I go through phases – I like to read zombie fiction, vampires, etc., but then I need REAL reading. That sounds awful and deserves some explanation.
Vampires and zombies are real reading, don’t get me wrong, but they’re fun – they scare, they entertain. I don’t finish a zombie book and say, wow, that changed my life. But then I read a “literary fiction” book, and yes, I can say, wow that changed my life.
I am currently reading a variety of books of course, Anne Rice’s newest Wolf Gift book, Joyland by Stephen King, etc. etc. I consider Stephen King to be one of the best writers of all time, and he will ALWAYS entertain me. His books are right in the middle for me, by the way. While his subjects may not be life changing, his writing is, so I can’t really include him in my rant. Anne Rice is not literary for me – yes, they take me to another world, which is fantastic. But, they don’t change my current world for me.
Khaled Hosseini is literary. Ann Patchett, Margaret Atwood, etc.
I don’t know what caused me to write about this today, but evidently I am in more need of some literary reading, to stretch my mind and make me think. I love the fun reads – horror is my favorite – just love to be scared to death. Still having nightmares about NOS4A2. But my brain needs to be stimulated. Not textbook level, though I need that too, but somewhere in between. Maybe this all makes sense to someone. 🙂