I've gone back and forth about responding to a comment that was made on my "book club pic" blog... hemmed and hawed (Is that even how you spell "hawed"?), opened my blog spot account, closed it again, clicked open the comments, minimized them again...
But I have to respond. Because there aren't all that many things in life that push my very passive and typically neutral (call me Switzerland!) buttons, but judgement against the so-called "chic lit" genre is one of them. (Along with the general lack of common curtesy today, Randy Jackson's lame critiques on American Idol, and when anyone tries to pick a fight with my little sister.)
I guess my defense is not against criticism of the genre itself, more against the perception that those who read that genre are flighty and even shallow. I mean, I've poked fun at my "shallow" literary interests in the past, but am just now realizing that perhaps I've been taken more seriously then I intended.
There is something sweet and undeniably optimistic about this genre. It is relatable. It's a cathartic for the typical harassed and disillusioned 20-something female. She works in a mundane office job, paying off her stupidly high student loans, wears ann taylor loft suits and uncomfortable high heels and gets tipsy off a second margarita. Sometimes she's happily married, other times she single and waiting. In the versions I tend to read, she's a Christ follower.
But she's also crazy smart. She's reading isn't she? She's not watching "Sex and City" marathons (not that there's anything wrong with that), or surfing facebook every waking minute. She's reading. She's using her imagination and she's expanding her mind.
In my defense, I've read other books. Lots of them. Bronte, Karoac, Chaucer, Shakespear, Hemmingway, Steinbach, Twain, JR Tolkien, CS Lewis and every Austen at least three or four times through. I've read Harry Potter so many times that I can quote it to the annoyance of all my friends and family. I've read Oates, Picoult, Cornwell, King, Crighton, Wells, Higgens Clark, Sparks and Clancy.
But I've also read Siri Mitchell. And Sophie Kinsella, Lori Wick, Meg Cabot, Susan May Warren, Emily Giffin, Janette Oke, Deanne Gist, Jennifer Weiner and Dee Henderson. And some of them have pink on the covers, but some don't.
I went through a period where all I read was gore and murder mysteries (now I can barely stomach the thought, but there you have it. It was also during this time that I wanted to be a Crime scene investigator, and for the record, it was before it become trendy to be so.) I went through a period where all I read were historical prarie romances. Then I became crazy for the classics for a few years. Until I made my attempt at "War and Peace". That killed it for me. And if that makes me shallow, so be it.
Now I like it all.
But I love love LOVE chic lit. And I realize that some chic lit is better then others. Some is, shall we say, more meaty. And THAT is why I've started my "book club" because I've read so much that I am able to weed out some authors that are better then others.
To be a writer, you must read everything. And that means everything. Even hunting magazines and political biographies. And I do. So thank you "anonymous" for your suggestion. I am sorry that I wasn't more clear on my interests. I appreciate your comment, because it made me think. It caused me to become more accountable as I am preparing to make my own attempts at the literary world. But just so you know, I am aware that there is more then just chic lit out there. :)
Okay, I'm jumping off the box, now.
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