I have a shameful secret: I used to be really snotty about books. My reading rules have remained astonishingly the same over the years (though embracing ereading did add a big one to the list), but I've undeniably evolved as a reader; along the way, I realized my snobbery was only bringing me down, so I let it go. Changing my book-acquisition habits was the first step to recovery. Here's how I ended up in Snobtown and how I found my way out.
When I was a kid, I devoured books. My tiny, tiny, sad school's library was so paltry that I was allowed to check out "high school" books by third grade. The public library was no help at all after the librarian accused me of stealing a book I'd never checked out, which totally scared me away. (I swear I was reading the Baby-sitters Club books in order and was at least ten away from the one in question. That mystery was solved eventually, but I've forgotten the outcome.)
By 15, I had become an insufferable snob. The school placed me in the gifted, a.k.a. Extra Homework, program (did I mention how small my school was, small and rural). I only liked "weird" music and read classics, poetry, and stuff no one had heard of (somehow, Neil Gaiman fell into that category). I worked a gothy vibe and came alive in English class. If I had to do extra homework, at least it got to be for my favorite class. Mr. Smith gave me complete control over my extra projects, so I wrote a crapload of angsty poetry and called it a day. He gave it all back to me, mercifully without comment, years later. Since I knew no one except my teachers and a couple of close bitches (I mean that fondly) liked me anyway, I stopped reading as much and started actively cultivating my weirdo image by writing more. I acquired fewer books and more CDs. Despite all the amazing poetry (Plath! Cummings! Frost!) I was reading at the time, I wanted my poems to sound like Tori Amos songs.
In college and grad school, I almost exclusively read books for classes and research, taking breaks for Harry Potter. I became an even bigger book snob. My only writing, too, was for class (and a long-defunct LJ); eventually, maintaining an academic tone shut up the creative weirdo who liked slang and sentence fragments. I lost my teenage hubris and started giving a bunch of damns what other people thought since you kinda have to when you're being graded. I loved those years, but they were stressful.
When ereaders started to get popular, I was rabidly anti. Kindle? Like kindling to start a fire for burning paper books?! WTF is this, Fahrenheit 451? (It's fine if you don't like ereaders. You're probably not a jerk about it like I was.) In 2007, I finished graduate school, got my first job, and moved into my very own apartment. Suddenly, I was a book hoarder with disposable income and walls to fill, which I did by ordering books and going to local bookstores several times a month. Library? Pssshhh, I have to give those books back!
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When I was a kid, I devoured books. My tiny, tiny, sad school's library was so paltry that I was allowed to check out "high school" books by third grade. The public library was no help at all after the librarian accused me of stealing a book I'd never checked out, which totally scared me away. (I swear I was reading the Baby-sitters Club books in order and was at least ten away from the one in question. That mystery was solved eventually, but I've forgotten the outcome.)
By 15, I had become an insufferable snob. The school placed me in the gifted, a.k.a. Extra Homework, program (did I mention how small my school was, small and rural). I only liked "weird" music and read classics, poetry, and stuff no one had heard of (somehow, Neil Gaiman fell into that category). I worked a gothy vibe and came alive in English class. If I had to do extra homework, at least it got to be for my favorite class. Mr. Smith gave me complete control over my extra projects, so I wrote a crapload of angsty poetry and called it a day. He gave it all back to me, mercifully without comment, years later. Since I knew no one except my teachers and a couple of close bitches (I mean that fondly) liked me anyway, I stopped reading as much and started actively cultivating my weirdo image by writing more. I acquired fewer books and more CDs. Despite all the amazing poetry (Plath! Cummings! Frost!) I was reading at the time, I wanted my poems to sound like Tori Amos songs.
In college and grad school, I almost exclusively read books for classes and research, taking breaks for Harry Potter. I became an even bigger book snob. My only writing, too, was for class (and a long-defunct LJ); eventually, maintaining an academic tone shut up the creative weirdo who liked slang and sentence fragments. I lost my teenage hubris and started giving a bunch of damns what other people thought since you kinda have to when you're being graded. I loved those years, but they were stressful.
When ereaders started to get popular, I was rabidly anti. Kindle? Like kindling to start a fire for burning paper books?! WTF is this, Fahrenheit 451? (It's fine if you don't like ereaders. You're probably not a jerk about it like I was.) In 2007, I finished graduate school, got my first job, and moved into my very own apartment. Suddenly, I was a book hoarder with disposable income and walls to fill, which I did by ordering books and going to local bookstores several times a month. Library? Pssshhh, I have to give those books back!
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