Not that I feel like I’ve been away as I’ve been having a lovely bookish time elsewhere. I’ve been chatting lots on twitter, doing a monthly book club podcast with Rob, Kate (both from Adventures with Words) and Simon (of Savidge Reads) and doing my bit for genre with my other blog No Cloaks Allowed. I also get the privilege of making sure The Readers and You Wrote the Book go live every other week to their respective growing and loyal audiences.
Now, No Cloaks Allowed was bit of an experiment for me as I wanted to spend time ‘selling’ the idea that genre fiction as a diverse and wonderful world to explore. And it truly is but it’s a lot for one person. So I’m going to use No Cloaks Allowed to review and show off the wide range of SFF shorter fiction and nag some of my friends into joining in. It’s selfish really as I love SFF and it’s an excuse to keep buying collections and anthologies (Ellen Datlow’s Lovecraft’s Monsters is supposed to ship any day now.)
Blogging has always been about my own loves and then trying to make the idea of reading as infectious as possible. And it’s easy for reading to be infectious – being on twitter has been the worse thing for my TBR as you get to see so many people’s latest loves as they happen and then they push books on you! It’s wonderful.
But then you also read tweets like this:
Today: a conversation with an academic gentleman who assures me, with some pride, that he has NEVER read a book by a woman. *headdesk*
— Joanne Harris (@Joannechocolat) April 7, 2014
And a couple of days earlier a female reader said they’ll never read another bloke.
I don’t get it. It can’t be narrow-mindedness, can it? I just don’t why you’d be proud of not reading something on purpose? I can understand if the work itself is dire (or if you don’t like horror/gore as not everyone has a strong stomach) but apart from that no excuse really.
It’s not that hard to make a diverse TBR (admittedly this is SFF-heavy) but it didn’t take me more than 30-seconds to put together.
That was the tipping point. Just talking about SFF for me feels a little closed in and I’ve had this review of Gladys Mitchell’s Mrs Bradley half-written but nowhere to post it. So now I’ve not really got an excuse have I? I’ll have to finish it.
And now the damn is broken I’ll have to just keep going and talking about different types of books because sometimes all you need is the gentle encouragement of someone showing you how to do things another way.