Brought to you by The Broke and the Bookish
August 28: Top Ten Bookish Confessions (Anything! You dog ear, you hated a book but said you loved it, you have $500 library fines…anything goes!)
1. I’m horrible at returning library books (or remembering to renew them!) so I usually pay about $3/month in fines! (They are usually my daughters books that go missing and I forget to hunt for. So I’m not exactly setting a good example!)
2. My largest Library fine? $72.17. In late fees. (All the books were returned, just REALLY late.)
3. I never read Lord of the Flies, but I said I did. In my freshman year, I got switched in English courses mid-year and there were 3 teachers at my school. One of the teachers had her class read it first semester, and the rest were reading it 2nd. When the time came, I told her I’d read it the first semester. I didn’t like the idea of the book, so I wanted to skip. Instead? I wrote a book report on a biography of Janis Joplin. Seriously. (Yes, I’m embarrassed!)
4. I do dog-ear. But only my HQN books of the month.
5. As mentioned above? I’m addicted to HQN books of the month. (This is a closet secret – one only my husband knew before now.)
6. I liked Fifty Shades of Grey. Ok, so the books sucked on so many levels. But I couldn’t put them down.
7. I bribe my daughter so that I can get reading time. If a book is really REALLY good? I’ll give her a cupcake and a cartoon so I can buy myself an hour of reading time. I hated the writing. I hated the plot itself. But. I couldn’t put them down. Read the series in 4 days.8. I’m a book Polygamist. No less than 3 books going at any given time.
9. Most of my “IRL” friends don’t know that I read a lot of YA… And they DEFINITELY do not know about my blog!
10. I read Sara Palin’s book (Now I shall run and hide!) (I feel the need to say that I am NOT a Palin fan. NOT NOT NOT. I’ll blame this book on my Father In Law. It’s not like he reads my blog *LOL*)
I mean it, Cameraon. I don’t care if it’s Jesus himself behind the wheel, if He’s been sippin’ on His own homemade wine, you call for a ride home,” my dad said sternly with a hint of an evangelical tone in his voice.