Embarrassing admission: I am addicted to the Sookie Stackhouse novels. This did not start at Book 1, with which I was nonplussed. "Pshaw," said I, nose in the air, "this be too juvenile a style for moi." Instead, I stuck to the TV series, True Blood, that was inspired by the books.
But everywhere I turned, online and offline, I was being told "Sookie will win you over, Sookie will win you over." I began to wonder if I may have been indulging in a teensy bit of literary snobbery (No! Could it be?), so when a friend offered to lend me the True Blood Omnibus (the first three books), I figured I'd have a go.
Within three days, I'd read all three books. After another generous loan, the next two books were very quickly read. Not able to wait until I met up with my friend again (sorry, Ruby!) I made a trip to my local Borders bookstore, during the 50 percent off sale before it closed.
I purchased Book ELEVEN at the airport on Monday morning and, thanks to some lengthy flight delays, finished it that same night. I now wish to urge Ms Charlaine Harris to hurry up and finish the next one. While I'm at it, I'd also like to take the opportunity to state that I am most definitely of the Team Eric persuasion, and hope she will bear this in mind as she writes.
(Interesting fact gleaned in literature classes: when Charles Dickens wrote The Old Curiosity Shop in instalments, he was inundated with letters imploring him not to kill off Little Nell. It didn't work then, but this reader is hoping Ms Harris will be more open to a heartfelt plea.)
So I have my friend Ruby and the lovely ladies of the Book Lover's Hideaway group on Goodreads to thank for slapping me out of my snobbery, encouraging me to try a new genre, and unintentionally giving me permission to get lost in what amounts to pure entertainment.
Most often, my reading choices are like fine dining. I want something clever, something unique, something that challenges me to think differently or face difficult issues, or transports me to a depth of emotion or experience that I could never have conjured in my own imagination.
There's nothing wrong with that, of course, but my foray into Sookie's world has been like sinking my teeth into a spicy meatball pizza at Arturo's on West Houston, and washing it down with a bottle of rough chianti, after a year-long diet of fois gras and alpine riesling. Lip-smackingly good!
ps. I am so inspired by Sookie that I will shortly blog about my own experiences hunting down the REAL vampires of America. Stay tuned...