Saturday, June 23, 2012
In Denial: I'm not a crier
I have a secret that I need to share. A dark one. It's not something that I'm comfortable with facing on my own.
I think I might be a crier.
No. No. Hold the phone. I refuse to believe that about myself.
Yet... I seem to be crying over books at the drop of a hat.
It wasn't always this way. I used to have two books that could make me cry. TWO. No more. Now every other review I write contains some variation on the phrase "I was a little teary-eyed." Sometimes I mix it up and throw in "I cried like a baby."
I just... How did this happen? When? Can I blame J.R. Ward for twisting me up over the Brothers? Can I blame Sherrilyn Kenyon for every book in the Dark-Hunter series? The Demonica books? Lords of the Underworld?
I used to be a stoic, dry-eyed reader. Now I'm not. *weeps quietly to myself*
Talk to me, my faithful peeps. Tell me that I'm not alone in my glorious dampness. I mean, I can't be the only one that authors can reduce to tears. I can't be the lone sob in the dark. Tell me what books reduce you to a wet, snotty mess. Hold your tissues proudly and CRY WITH ME!
*ahem* Not that I admit to crying, mind you.