I have recently been in something of a book slump. Nothing sounds interesting to read; I can’t even decide on a genre. I’ve always had a solution to slumps in the past, something I liked to call Russian Roulette. As you can guess, I pick a random unread book from my library and just go at it. I was discussing my slump with Queen J and she reminded me of the random book feature in Calibre (side note: Calibre is an organizational miracle).
But I digress.
The random book that Calibre decided for me was Last to Know by Micalea Smeltzer, a book I’ve owned since April 2015. Reading the plot blurb, my initial thoughts were as follows:
- Oh, a musician.
- More specifically, a young musician.
- Is this title just foreshadowing?
- “When she finds out the truth…” this spells out trouble.
- Do drummers really walk around with drum sticks all the time?
So then I read it. Last to Know was quality writing – no grammatical errors or editing mistakes that I noticed. And yet, I just didn’t connect with the characters. Then I started thinking (and maybe this is my downfall): am I just not connecting with these characters because they are so much younger than me? The typical reactions from these teenagers bugged me because it felt so immature, but is this not how I would have reacted when I was 17? I’m sure my mother would agree.
To further this supposition I have about my age, I recently watched the movie The Edge of Seventeen. Enjoyable movie with equal amounts of cringe- and laughter-inducing moments. The downside? I wanted to scream at Nadine “Listen to your mother! Grow up! Clean your room!”
I can only conclude this is a sign I have become a Real Life Adult™. Is this the end of my YA love affair? Or was this a one time aberration? I suppose we’ll find out once Calibre randomly assigns me more YA.
Now get off my lawn, you hooligans.