It's just so much easier on my brain to read books that were written after the 1800's. For a long time, I've been stuck in this thought that if a book I'm reading isn't a classic, I'm cheating somehow. Cheating on the Bronte sisters and Nathaniel Hawthorne. Cheating on their poetic language and extensive vocabularies I could never hope to attain. If I can fully comprehend a paragraph the first time I read through it, something is wrong.
Though I still say classics are my favorite, I decided to let all of my favorite dead authors turn in their graves. I decided to cheat. I bought a book last night. A book whose copyright is year 2011. I shamelessly bought this brand new book to the world and I am in love. The kind of in love where I stayed up well past my bed time reading it. And even when I turned out the lights I couldn't get to sleep for at least a half hour because I was still thinking about it.
Classics are still my favorite. But this book (sorry, Steinbeck, sorry, Austen). It has me.