Top Ten Tuesday: Ten lies we've told about books

top ten tuesday                lies

Hosted by The Broke and Bookish.  

Shh, don't tell.  (Fun fact: One of C.J.'s stories is a lie. Can you guess which?)       

c.j.'s selections                         ten ten ten

After I first read Queen of Shadows, I was kind of afraid to advertise how meh I felt about it. Some people wouldn't care, but her fans can be rabid. But now I will admit: I thought it was so boring, slowly paced, and poorly written. It's like she stopped editing. Ah, the sweet release of confession. 


I read The Lord of the Rings a long time ago, but I didn't actually finish the last few chapters until a couple years later. I just never got around to it, but I kept telling people I'd read all of it because I didn't want them to make fun of me. (Clearly I wasn't clear on what gets you made fun of in middle school.) 

My best friend didn't read Harry Potter until a long time after the series was out, and when she begged me for spoilers, I told her that Harry and Hermione got together. She was SO MAD AT ME when she finally finished them. She's still mad--not because she wanted them to end up together, but just on principle. 


This was back in the day, when I was a brand new blogger, and I was supposed to be reading it for a blog tour. I couldn't get into it. Was SO freaking bored. But I didn't know I could just opt out, not bacck then. Came around to really close to my tour post and I still hadn't finished it, it was like 3am, and I couldn't bring myself to waste my sleep on it. So I pretend I finished it and wrote my review based on what I'd read. (In my defense, it was most of it! I know, I know, I'm a disgrace to blogging.) 


This refers to many books, but sometimes when someone gushes how much they loved a book and asks if I've read it and I have (but I hated it), I'll say, "It was okay. Not my thing." Like, I could go on a rant about how stupid I thought it was and tear it to shreds, but I'm way too nice/cowardly to do that. It's kind of like when I tell people I'm "fine." 

whitley's selections                         ten ten ten

Morrigan's Cross - Nora Roberts
I can't be sure it was this specific trilogy, but it was a Nora Roberts book with a vampire in it so. One of my missions in Iraq involved a 22 hour convoy to get to the place first, and since our truck was packed full of "shit we have to be outside for like a week" stuff, I lost my seat and had to go to a different truck. A truck full of dudes who don't know me and my habits. I had this whole series with me, because haha as if you can be on guard for 22 hours of convoying, and about six hours in I got sick of the fat lot of nothing going on and snuck out my book. I laid it perfectly flat across my lap so the cover wouldn't show. Eventually the gunner (equally bored) noticed and asked me what I was reading. "What? Huh? Nothing. I'm not reading. I'm totally paying attention. Oh, this book? Um, nothing, what, there is no book, and if there was it wouldn't be a romance about vampires dating witches and stuff." Eventually I got over myself and showed it to him, and he asked to borrow it when I was done. Godspeed, Mr. Infantry Gunner; I hope you enjoy your vampire smut with more dignity than I did.
(Now I really want to reread this series.)
Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern - Anne McCaffrey
I was obsessed with the Pern books during high school and would frequently sneak-read them during class. This one, though, had such a downer ending I wound up sobbing all through a history lecture on 18th century whaling. I tried valiantly to hold it in and not make a scene (I mean, didn't stop reading in my attempts to not cry, but still) and eventually I was found out. I don't even remember the lie I told to cover my emotional state, but I do remember no one found my book so it must have been successful.
The Illiad - Homer
Speaking of being obsessed with Pern books, my childhood bedroom had a HUGE closet with its own light, so I would frequently set up in there after bed time, with a towel stuffed under the door to block the light. One night while merrily reading my dragon fantasies, my mom caught me. I heard her come in the bedroom and had just enough time to throw Pern away and flail out for something else to excuse my actions, and I landed on a copy of Illiad I had been reading for school. Months ago. That unit was over and Mom knew it. But she fully believed I was staying up late to finish reading the Illiad 'for fun,' and she was tickled pink about it. To this day, she still proudly tells people that her daughter was the type of reader to stay up late in the closet reading the Illiad 'for fun,' and I haven't had the heart to tell her the truth.

Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
Once in grade school we had this reading competition where you'd read a book, then take a short test on it to get points. The higher the reading level of the book, the more the points. So I picked out Great Expectations, because it was work like 80 some-odd points, far and away the most points available. I skimmed the whole thing, barely understood it (because being an avid reader doesn't mean being a high-grade-level reader) and guessed on most of the test questions. But I'm a good guesser, because I passed and won my class a pizza party. I still have the gift that my teacher gave me because she was so proud of me for 'reading' Great Expectations.

Basically any Shakespeare
The items on this list are pretty old because, well, I've stopped being shy about what I read or what I think about it. These days I'm less a liar more a "well I'm just going to bow out of this conversation awkwardly"er. Except for one author. I've never read a Shakespeare play. At least, not all the way through. I've seen a few, but most of my knowledge of Shakespeare plays comes from other people's analysis or cultural osmosis. Which makes my occasional R&J rantings probably a bit hypocritical. Oops.

Your turn!  What bookish lies have you told?  

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