© 2012 by onutzaC

Four Seasons of Books, or Amy’s Weird Reading Habit

I know what you might think of when you hear “seasonal reading,” but no, I’m not talking about holiday-themed books, although I LOVE me a good Christmas story. Or, well, books about any holiday at all–Fourth of July, Valentine’s Day, New Year’s Eve, Thanksgiving. No, when I think of “seasonal reading” I think of one of my own weird reading quirks: reading certain types/genres of books during certain times of the year. Not exclusively, mind you, but more generally speaking. I can’t explain it any other way except that I just don’t seem to be in the mood for certain kinds of books until the weather starts to turn one way or another. Is this too weird, friends? I hope not. I mean, I understand that I am an odd bird sometimes and I’m cool with it, but still. No judgement, right?

Anyway, because I’m feeling a little self-indulgent, and because we just happen to be a time of year when my reading hankerings are changing with the seasons, I figured I’d give a low-down of what might be my biggest book weirdness. Guys, it seriously affects my reading for the whole year. I’ve tried to break out of it and, with only a few exceptions, I just can’t seem to make it happen. (If you’re being curious, books aren’t the only seasonal thing I deal with either. I do it with music, too.) I will tell you that sometimes my seasonal reading is TOTALLY obvious, and also that if a book takes place in a certain season, I read it during that season. I can’t read books set at the beach in the dead of winter. Unless I am at a beach myself on vacation someplace warm. One exception to this whole pot of crazy? Historical romances. I’ll read a historical romance at any time.

Aaaaannnyyyway…enough intro.

Winter

Winter is basically fantasy time. Something about the cold and the longer nights make me want to hunker down, get under the covers and get really absorbed in a deep, well-constructed story in another world. I like to devote time to my fantasies because one aspect of this genre that is so important to me is world-building. I want to understand the intricacies and the relationships and the complexities, and in the nicer weather when I’m busier running around doing things outside, I don’t have the same time to get into the nitty gritty. (I am never put off by lots of details in my fantasies.) In the winter-time, when I’m not as likely to be leaving my house every waking minute because it’s SO FREAKING COLD OUT, I cozy up to a (hopefully) good fantasy, and I like my fantasies like Jersey girls like their hair: the higher the better.

I also read lots of sad books in the winter. If someone dies horribly or in a really sad way, I’ll pick it up and get my sob on. Sometimes I’m a glutton for punishment that way.

Spring

If I’m reading any dystopians–admittedly not always the books I grab, although I do love them–I seem to read lots of them in the spring. I have literally no explanation for this whatsoever. Alas. But of all the seasons, I find the spring to be the most ambidextrous. I’m more apt to read anything in this season than any other time. Darker/more serious contemps or issue books, urban fantasies, dystopians. I don’t really read too many paranormals in the springtime, but basically anything else is fair game. Have I totally alienated you yet with my utter strangeness?

Summer

Likely to no one’s surprise at all, I read TONS of contemporaries in the summer. TONS. Lots of beach books, summer vacation books, romances–LOTS of romances. I like to swoon in the summertime. Also, any kind of adventure book. If it’s fast-paced, maybe a little dangerous, I’m feeling it in the summer. I think it’s because I can read these books quickly, and I feel like the story passes quickly, and that’s just what I’m looking for in the summertime. Breezy.

Also, even though I read middle grade all year because I love it so, I read LOTS of MGs in the summer, too. Or, at least, I always have the impulse to read lots of MGs. Unfortunately, I am not made of spare time.

Fall

Ah, Fall. Possibly my favorite season of all. Fall is my time for all things supernatural. Something about the encroaching cold and darkness give me creepy feels, so if it’s a book about vampires, werewolves, witches, or a mystery of any kind, I’ll be more likely to pick it up now. And I’m gearing up to get into my fantasies as well. I can feel them calling to me already.

So, friends, I have shared with you a weirdness about myself. I’m not the only one with these kinds of quirks, right? Do you have any? Share! This is a safe place, friends. You are not alone. 🙂