I was struggling to come up with a topic for today and then just a little bit ago I was admiring my blog's new look (again...arrogant, I know, but I'm quite proud of it) and suddenly it just came to me as if it were plastered across the top of my screen. F for Fiction, duh.
I love fiction because it offers an escape. While the real world has all its rules and structures, fiction novels can say to hell with the laws of physics, who needs gravity anyway? In fiction your imagination is your only limit, and when you have an imagination like mine that leaves you with a lot to work with.
As big of a reader as I am I have only ever read one nonfiction book cover to cover; the Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls, which is an amazing book that everyone should read at least once, but that's besides the point. The point is I do not enjoy nonfiction. Nonfiction has all these rules is has to abide by, such as having actually happened for one. I prefer to read something where literally anything could happen at any moment. That is not to say that I do not enjoy realistic fiction. I read it considerably less often than I read science-fiction or fantasy, but there are a few I have absolutely loved; Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher would have to be my favorite. I also adore anything written by Ellen Hopkins.
I will admit I have an affinity for dark fiction. One of my absolute favorite books is The Blood Confession by Alisa Libby, a historical fiction novel loosely based on the life of Countess Elizabeth Bathory, aka the Blood Countess. I have also gained a slight (major) obsession with the Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins, which I read in less than a week. I even had a difficult time getting into the Harry Potter books until book 4 which is when they started getting considerably darker (books 6 and 7 are probably my favorite). I'm not sure exactly what it is that draws me to the darker books, there is just something about them that makes them impossible for me to resist.
As I have mentioned before, I fell in love with reading at a fairly young age. When I was little my Dad read me The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien (aka the single most ingenius writer to have ever walked this earth) ,and after that the real world was simply not enough for me. I wanted more. I wanted magic. More than that, I demanded it. And the only place this desire has ever been satisfied is within the pages of a book.