I am a long-haul reader. I find a series I like and I stick with it. Committing to an ongoing series is a bit (a lot) like the ups and downs of a relationship. There’s the first attraction—This book is made of gold and chocolate. The Honeymoon period—Books 2-5 are still so awesome; this series can do no wrong. The doubts—Uh-oh, books 6-7 are slipping, I might quit. The makeup sex—book 8 is back and better than ever. And so on.
Although I pride myself on sticking with it, I have a confession to make. Sometimes when I finish a series, no matter how much I love an author, it takes a while to jump into another series by the same author. It could be a touch of fatigue, or that I am afraid their next venture will be wildly different or too much the same. Whatever the reason, I drag my feet a bit.
My reading tastes are like my moods: fickle and ever changing. Not so long ago I was introduced to someone as a reader and of course was asked, “What do you like to read?” Since I read in many genres, I was unsure of how to answer. Here is a brief but eloquent transcript:
