I’m always happy to be proven wrong. Okay, well that’s a bit of a lie. Who likes to be proven wrong? No one, that’s who. But in any case, I was wrong, I am admitting it, and I’m now writing to amend my previous statement.
Last month, I wrote an essay on how I just haven’t been able to finish an essay book. That I had tried reading 3 different collections of biographical essays and did not finish one of them.
It’s no secret that I like to read. And I read a lot. And while I have my favorite genres, which probably 80% of the books I read fall into, I do read a bit of everything—fiction, nonfiction, poetry, short story.
I have even read a couple horror genre books (a la Stephen King), which is not my genre at all. (Although I just googled “horror books” and several of my favorite classic books popped up, including Frankenstein, Dracula, and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Who knew?! Maybe I need to rethink my stance on horror.)