The Embarrassing Book From Your Past
We’ve all got one right?
Maybe it was when you got into that romance novel kick and read that series with Fabio on the cover. Or maybe you can’t help it, but you just really dig that super awesome self-published novel called The Moon People. Or you always said you wouldn’t read Danielle Steel, and then you read one of her novels on vacation last year, and your sister made fun of you, but you kind of liked it, maybe, just a little bit.
We’ve all got a book that we’re embarrassed to call a part of our personal literary history. I’ve even written about my battles with embarrassing books in public.
For me, well, it seems to be an obvious choice. For those of you who’ve read this blog for a while, you might remember my foray into Judy Blume’s Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. As a man in his mid-30s, that was not my proudest of moments.
But, oh, the things I do for the Time list. At least, though, I read the Margaret book out of obligation to the Time list—not really by choice. I can’t say the same for Snookie’s biography, A Shore Thing. Just kidding, I never read that.
In fact, I’m struggling to think of a book I’m embarrassed to have read by choice. I’ve certainly read a lot of meaningless fluff in my day—sports biographies, “foodie” books, and so on. But novels? I can’t think of one, and I’m honestly not trying to escape my own question.
But what about you?
Dare you come out to the world today and proclaim with confidence the book that you are most embarrassed to have read? Dare you take such a stand?
This is your moment!