i am very basic - i want a story told to me. i noticed it big time in under the dome, but i thought this book was really fun, and had something interesting to say, which i did not think w/r/t mr. blank faces.īut this book i really loved, and i was reading the reviews of it today here on, and so many people hated it for its lack of characterization or weak narrative but i honestly didn't notice anything like that in this. and i felt like an asshole when they asked what i was reading, and i mumbled 'oh the third part in this really complicated norwegian trilogy about television and what makes up the catalog of a life, told without a linear narrative, and no, it's good - it's like proust'. because they are all talking about their romance novelists and their chick-lit and cozy mysteries and COME ON!! these are future librarians!! one of the biggest no-nos in librarian school is to respect the patron and not look down on their reading choices, but it doesn't say anything about not judging your peers. but then at work, and in my readers advisory class, i feel like the biggest book elitist of all time. on, i feel mostly like the dummy of the bunch, which is a totally comfortable and understandable place for me to be.

Yay!! my suspicions have been confirmed - i am officially not a book snob! i oscillate between thinking i might be a little bit of one, and that any forays i may make into teen fiction or silly bodice rippers that involve byron in some way are just accidents flaws.

The monsters of templeton