Thursday, September 1, 2011
In Which I Sign Up for R.I.P. (R.eaders I.mbibing P.eril) VI
Oh, you're all killing me here with all the posts about the R.I.P. (R.eaders I.mbibing P.eril) Reading Challenge, currently in its 6th year of being hosted by the wonderful Carl of Stainless Steel Droppings.
I had all good intentions of signing up last year. In fact, with some minor modifications, this very post is the very introductory post I wrote EXACTLY A YEAR AGO on September 1, 2010 and which promptly went to die a quick death in Drafts.
Now, it is being exhumed.
Let it be known that I am not normally a horror, mystery, thriller, gothic, whatever kind of reader. Not in the least. But, you know, there is something about this time of year here in the United States, where the mornings are crisp and cool and the night creeps in ever so earlier, where you can feel autumn in the air. This season just lends itself to a nice mildly spooky story or two. Am I right? (I am, which is why this annual event is so popular.)
And for someone like me, who doesn't normally read creepy-crawly books, there's something kind of intriguing, kind of dangerously naughty, about this genre. For example, I distinctly recall reading Edgar Allan Poe in middle school and falling in love with the man.
And then, not having anything to do with him for ... well, the next three decades of my life.
(Hey, it happens.)