As we near the end of year, I'm indulging in some retro reading. Not just any old stuff but the stuff I used to read when I was, say, 10. Maybe a bit older too. Maybe in my teens...in my twenties...now in my *gasp* thirties! Yes, I still love reading these books. I guess they're my form of trash. They are YA of course, and I do love a good YA read. But YA isn't really my main passion. That would be Adult fiction, I guess. Still, I go back to these fluffy pre-teen reads at least every few years.
My little brother actually started reading them before I did. Oh the shame! I think the first one he read was THE ACCIDENT by Diane Hoh. That lady went on to write the NIGHTMARE HALL books, which I also enjoyed (and still have a fair few of in my collection). Out front of my place I've got a book shelf for more "literary" reads, you know, to impress all the visitors. But my beloved Point book collection is tucked away in my office, where only my cats can see.
Not that I'm ashamed, of course. I'm really not. But sometimes I do get a little confused. Why do I still love these reads? It's not just nostalgia, though that does play a significant part in it all. It IS also the stories themselves. The writing isn't always particularly authentic for YA, but while I'm reading, that doesn't matter. What matters is the story and the mystery and the...cute boys.
What's on your "guilty secret" shelf? (assuming you're not too cool to have one)