It's official. I'm a book snob.

I invited myself to a book club last night. There are 6 lovely ladies that meet every month and I've wanted to join for a while. It finally worked out this month. I quickly read the book chosen, made my opinions, and came up with "intelligent" things to contribute to the conversation. I wasn't really interested in the last book club I was in (could have been because I didn't know the ladies well) and I was determined to put more of myself into this one in hopes I got something in return.

The book we read was The Last Apprentice. It's a YA novel in the fantasy genre. I generally steer my reading selections away from fantasy mostly because I just can't relate or identify with the characters and because witches, fairies, and hobbits just don't interest me (Harry Potter and Shannon Hale's novels are the exception, but that's another post...).

Well, this one was no exception. I found myself frustrated for a few reasons:

1. The author's writing style--it just wasn't for me. I read a lot of everything--adult, Young Adult, mysteries, fiction, westerns, period novels, you name it. Because I read a lot I don't have a high tolerance for a plot to be spoon fed to me. It makes me feel dumber. And I don't agree that YA novels need to be written like that (not all of them are) to grab the YA or juvenile audience.


2. The Beaver Cleaver syndrome. I can't watch Leave it to Beaver (or shows like it). Beaver always did something that he knew he shouldn't have done and then Mr. Cleaver came in and scolded him sternly. Shudder. Just writing about it stresses me out. The main characters behaved this way and it bothered me so much I almost put the book down.


3. I'm a book gossip and there wasn't anything to gossip about. When I read a book I don't look very deep under the surface. When I talk about a book (I've come to find out), it's just to gossip about it, "Ohmygoodness, can you believe what she did?" Not, "What did the author mean by that?" I just don't think that way. Here's a funny example: My freshman year of college I had to do a critical review of The Screwtape Letters, by C.S. Lewis. I struggled so hard on the assignment because I couldn't see anything past the two devils having a conversation. I even had my professor go over it with me trying to draw out my own conclusions and nothing. Zippo. If it's not spelled out for me, chances are I'm not going to get the deeper meaning. (Two little side notes: Now that I write this, I'm connecting this with my trouble studying the scriptures, not just reading them. Hmmm... . Also, I try really hard to not gossip about my friends, although it takes a lot of self-control because it would probably come very naturally to me :) I think I gossip about books to fill that need)

Well, despite my criticisms of the novel, the ladies of the new book club overlooked all the things I found as stumbling blocks (I didn't even bring them up because I totally missed the boat). They drew out so many interesting points about the novel it made me, of course, look at it again and wonder if we'd read the same book. I'm excited to read other books with the group and hopefully increase my ability to look below the surface for other less obvious themes.