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Reading On The Beach Is A Bad Idea
Why fight the heat, the noise, and the sound of Drive-by Truckers that someone’s playing on the next blanket?
You might think I’d be leading the cheers for reading on the beach this summer. I love reading, and I love the beach. Why not combine them?
Some people might argue that — with leisure reading at an all-time low — I have duty to try. I’m not just a dues-paying member of the National Book Critics Circle — I’m a former vice-president. I’ve been the book columnist for Glamour, the book critic for Ohio’s largest newspaper, and a speaker at major publishing conferences. Cosmopolitan tapped one of my novels for its best-of-summer reading list.
Even so, I’m turning no cartwheels for all those shiny new titles the publishing industry calls “beach books.” I don’t object to the category itself. Every genre has winners and sinners, and some of the worst offenders consist of what the industry misguidedly calls “literary fiction.”
It’s not that I’m against beach books, just the idea that we’re supposed to read them where publishers suggest — on the beach. You can’t say I haven’t made an effort to acquire the habit.
I’ve spent years reading, or trying to read, in a dripping swimsuit on a beach blanket or folding chair…
