We all have little things that we do, things that make us cringe when we consider telling anyone else. What will they think of us when they know we secretly love these things?! You can envision your social life crumbling between your fingers.
It’s okay. EVERYBODY has something they’re too afraid to share.
Really, it is.
Here, I’ll show it to you. Here are five geeky guilty pleasures of my own!
I’m not even talking about anything as thrilling as Gone Girl. I’m talking about chintzy and dorky cozy mysteries. The kind that are about some amateur stumbling in on a murder victim and taking it upon themselves to catch the killer.
My favorite cozy mysteries are…culinary mysteries. Does that even sound like it should be a thing? Well, it is. And I love it. The protagonist’s day job usually has something to do with food and they spend a lot of time putting together clues while they cook or bake or what have you.
Shut up. I like it.
I watched a bit of this growing up, starting with Sailor Moon and Dragon Ball Z. I moved onto Toonami in my teens, watching Yu Yu Hakusho and some of the Gundam series. Once I got a little older I moved away from it, realizing that a lot of the people that watched anime were really weird (around here, at least).
But, hubs lured me in not too long ago and set me back on the path. We began with Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood (which I’m obsessed with now) and moved into other shows like Death Note and A World in Which Dirty Jokes Don’t Exist (I’m sure it has a simpler name).
I don’t hang out with the people around here that watch anime, but I devour it in the privacy of my own living room.
Most of them are absolute shit. Let’s be honest. There are plot holes everywhere you step, conveniently place characters in times of need, and a whole lot of raunchy sex. But that’s what you pick the book up for. I’ve read an overabundance of romance novels in my time.
I’ve read some of the Christine Feehan vampire-y books and some of the Sherrilyn Kenyon alien romance books. And I enjoyed every minute of that shit. It’s lady porn. And it’s okay.
It’s like some weird prerequisite as a writer to have an odd and obsessive need for journals. I can’t pass the office aisles in any department store without needlessly drooling over a notebook. The really nice leather bound ones.
There are a freaking million of them scattered across the house right now, each of them having only a few pages of writing in them and no actual purpose in life. It’s gotten bad. Really bad. But I still need more.
Buying the Real Book after Buying the EBook
Raise your hand if you’ve done this!
I can’t begin to tell you how many times I’ve done this. I’m just throwing my money at authors. How can I help it when a book is so good that I NEED to own the physical copy? I can’t dreamily look at an ebook on my shelf and reminisce about the story inside it. I can’t pour over the paper pages and revel in the familiar book smell.
I know. I’m a bit weird. Yet, we all are in our own unique way and that’s what make the world great. Weirdness makes the world truly interesting and enjoyable! Embrace your weird!