The problem with being a voracious reader is that at times, you end up hating books for the most stupid reasons ever… or is that just me?

I am not a big one for classics. Especially since I chose to read Little women from my dad’s classics collection when I was too small to actually like… GET it. The Christmas bit was nice, but I never got past that part properly for years and years. Any time it ever came in my path, I found a way out of reading it properly. I now assumed that all classics were the same – boring, long and out of my league. I read what I had to, but I often didn’t admit to myself that I liked it. Yes, I was an arrogant kid.

But then, I grew up. At 16, Id seen and heard a lot about it, and one day decided that it was high time I actually read it. For the next 3 days, all free time was dedicated to reading it. I kept little rewards for myself after every few chapters to make myself keep going, and eventually (and rather triumphantly), I finished it.

BUT,
(And it’s a big but)
I’m still not too fond of it.

Sure, it made me smile at the end and all, but I still find classics boring as a genre. Yes, there ARE quite a few exceptions, but still, I’m sorry, Little Women, I’m not going to be reading you again anytime soon.