Who cares what others are reading?

For a lot of people, reading is difficult – some mediums are easier than others, some types of stories are less difficult; and frankly, some people have different ideas of what type of immersion is best for them.

read on friends, read on. And damn the rest of the readers who judge your bookshelves.

Last month, it was William Giraldi, trashing romance novels in the pages of the New Republic, who did the critic’s equivalent of dumping a bucket of piranhas into a crowded pool on the first great swimming day of summer. June brings another provocation, this time from Ruth Graham in Slate, who argues that adults ought to be ashamed of reading young adult literature.

There are plenty of easy objections to make to Graham’s piece. I do not know that there is any particular evidence that young adult literature is replacing John Updike and Alice Munro — two of Graham’s favorites — in anyone’s reading roster. Just 28 percent of Americans reported reading 11 or more books in 2013. That may mean that each piece of literature traded in for a YA book is more significant. But it also means that there are not many tradeoffs to make in the first place.

It is equally plausible that adults who are reading young adult literature are among those highly engaged readers, and are simply adding YA novels to other categories of books they read, or that the adults who read young adult fiction are reading no other literature at all. I fall into the former category.

Here’s the full article:
No, you do not have to be ashamed of reading young adult fiction

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