Thank You, Ms. Armstrong

So, I stopped by the public library(1) the other day and picked up a few books, hoping to kick my teenage science fiction problem with some new and interesting adult science fiction or fantasy. It took me the best part of an hour to find the three books I ended up with – as it turns out, our library is poorly stocked – and I only ended up with one new author, the other two being Koontz books that I had yet to read.

As I’m sure many of us do, I went home, saw to the animals (I have quite a few), went through the mail, turned off my phone (much to my husband’s dismay) and sat down with the first Koontz book, ready to be coerced into skipping dinner. After the third chapter, I stopped reading. I’m not going to tell you what book it was, because it was actually a good book. True to the Koontz style, it was graphic and well-written and everything I’ve come to expect from a Dean Koontz novel. It seems that I just don’t have the stomach for it anymore; especially when the book starts from the perspective of the psychopathic killer and I know it’s going to be downhill from there.

So, to coin a beloved phrase, “there I was” deflated and worried that my addiction to teenage science fiction had totally ruined me for the world of literature that I had loved. I would have to hand in my David Eddings, apologize profusely to my college Science Fiction professor, and slink off to the anonymous literature section often stereotyped for those in my profession. My love affair with literature was over. I was smitten with the sappy teenage love story centered around magic and mysticism and, since I am neither magic, nor teenaged, I was destined to continually be disappointed in my own life by comparison.

The second Koontz book went straight to the return pile – no sense in beating a dead horse. The third book, something completely new, sat waiting, but it was a day before I even dare approach. The main character was in her early forties, popular, self assured and sexy. In fact, they were all adults, people who knew who what they were about. The story was intriguing, harsh, real, alluring, and, in stark contrast to my choices of late, X-rated. OK, let’s not get our panties in a bunch, the X-rating was not the best part; it was only a small part of what made this a really fantastic book. It was so much more real than anything I’d been reading lately, that it reminds me of the advantages of reading stories for adults over stories written for children. Whereas, at the end of my stint enraptured by the Twilight series, I was left with a warm heart and a soft sight, No Humans Involved has me so amped that I’m here, having to get my thoughts down on paper at two thirty in the morning.

Thank you, Ms. Armstrong, for restoring my faith in stories. . .

1Being in the profession that I am, it occurs to me that many of the individuals with which blogging is popular might not be familiar with the concept of a “public library.” If you find yourself in this category, allow me to elaborate. A “public library” is a place in your community where books are available for people to read and share - that's right, they aren't only in schools. You can go there and sample the selection of books without actually having to buy any. Save your money and don't forget to thank your librarian!