I saw this over at chasing destino, and decided to give it a try–I had a lot of fun with this one, hopefully, you have fun reading this.
Mid-way through putting this together, I had a vision of Tom Haverford and his pals in the Hot Tub playing this game (Parks and Recreation, Season 3, Episode 2: “Flu Season”), and I can’t get it out of my head. Thankfully, these questions are easier (and more tasteful) than anything Tom came up with.
1. Would you rather have a friend who loses your books, or one who dog-ears them?
I’d rather have one less friend.
I don’t know…On the whole, dog-eared pages don’t bother me too much (not that I’ve done that in decades myself)–but I do have some older books that would look nicer if that had never happened to them. But a lost book can simply be replaced–which (barring the book being out of print, the new one having an ugly cover, or some other calamity befalling it) is almost easier to deal with than manhandled pages (especially if said friend secured their spot in my friendship roster by paying for the replacement unprompted). I guess, ideally, I’d take a lost book over a dog-eared one, but a friend is worth more than either.
2. Would you rather secretly love a book everyone else hates, or secretly hate a book everyone else loves?
I have to keep my love or hate secret? That might be a deal-breaker, for me–I just don’t know if I could get by without writing about my love/hate.
There’s a decent number of books I’ve enjoyed that few have read and, and I’m okay with not being part of the crowd when it comes to super-popular books–especially if I can understand why people think it’s great while I happen to disagree with them. If it’s one of those times where I don’t understand what everyone loves about a book, that bugs me.
I think I’d rather hate a book the rest of the world loves. If I’m a fan of a book, I’m going to want to spread the word and try to find like-minded readers. I want that possibility–exposing friends, family, blog readers, etc. to good books makes me happy. Grousing about a book isn’t particularly a thing I enjoy.
3. Would you rather be stuck on a very long plane or train ride without a book?
I’ve never traveled on a train that wasn’t an attraction on an amusement park, so I’m not honestly sure. But I do know that I’ve never been on a plane without at least one book (and usually a backup). Once we get in the air, I don’t think I’d mind flying all that much–but I don’t want to take the chance, I prefer being locked away in another world when we’re at crusing altitude. So let’s try to get me stuck on a very long train ride and see what happens.
4. Would you rather have dinner with your favorite author or your favorite character?
This is a tough one…I assume whatever fantasy-world that could give me this option could also give me the ability to shrug off my anxiety in order to converse with either the author or character? I could have a lot of fun over a steak sandwich or a Whopper with Harry Dresden (for example), but if I broke bread with Jim Butcher, he could tell me a lot about Harry–and Mouse, Toot-toot, Molly, and everyone. Harry couldn’t tell me anything about Butcher. The same would apply to other favorite characters and favorite authors. So, I’m going to have to go with the author.
Although, there’s a better than even chance that Tilly Bradshaw could tell me things about M.W. Craven that he doesn’t know himself.
5. Would you rather date a character you have a crush on or your crush from real life?
I’m pretty sure my wife would object to me dating anyone. I typically turn questions/prompts about book crushes into questions about fictional dogs, so let’s do that here.
Yeah, I’d love to spend some time with Dresden’s Mouse, Andy Carpenter’s Tara, Atticus’ Oberon (especially if I could hear him tell a story), or Washington Poe’s Edgar (and so on). So, put me down for a play date with a fictional dog. Nothing too major–they’ve got a human to hang out with, and I’ve got a couple of pooches that need attention.
6. Would you rather have your favorite book turned into a movie, or your favorite movie turned into a book?
I’ve read some really solid novelizations of movies (and several ‘meh’ novelizations, too). And like everyone who’s reading this post, I’ve both enjoyed and been disappointed/angered by bad adaptations of novels. Even the most barely adequate novelization is better than a bad adaptation. I don’t want to risk it with my favorite book.
Also, it’s easier for me to forget a disappointing movie than it is a disappointing book.
7. Would you rather read a book with an annoying cliffhanger, or one where your favorite character is killed off?
The phrasing here gets me–is the author of the tag suggesting that there are non-annoying cliffhangers and their target is the annoying kind? Or do cliffhangers get this descriptor automatically?
I’ve survived Dragons of Winter Night, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Where the Red Fern Grows, Battle Ground, and Marley & Me–along with several others that I won’t name so I can leave the liquor cabinet untouched today. I can handle deaths of favorite characters. Usually, after a period, understand and defend the author’s choice (fat chance of that happening with Battle Ground)–but that doesn’t mean I’d rather read something like that.
No, give me a cliffhanger–annoying by definition, annoying in practice, or any other kind.
8. Would you rather lose the ability to read any new books, or the ability to reread books you’ve already read?
Oh, wow…this is tough. This ranks right up there with that poor guy from The Twilight Zone who breaks his glasses before getting to spend the rest of his (probably short) life reading.
I’m super curious about new books–I imagine I always will be. Not being able to read a new book again is a dire fate indeed.
Never returning to Wolfe’s brownstone? Not seeing Spenser at his best? Never fighting back a tear when Harry Dresden uses the knife to win a war? Not getting to see Mercy Thompson torment the Alpha next door with her rusted out VW? Never seeing Kinsey Milhone at work again? Reading about Rov and the guys at Championship Vinyl and their Top 5 Lists? Not going through the Wardrobe again? Saying goodbye to Boo Radley? … Nope. Just can’t do that. I’d lose too many old friends and characters who might as well be family.
I guess I’d opt for losing the ability to read new books.
9. Would you rather live in a library or a bookstore?
I think a library would have to be my answer here. I learned a thing or two from Claudia and Jamie Kincaid that I could apply to a library, for one (and, in a library, I’d have an easy time finding a copy to brush up on, too).
Librarians are more likely to have a microwave and decent coffeepot–not to mention decent restroom facilities–than bookstore employees are (except for those bookstores with a coffee bar). Also, in a bookstore, you’d have the pressure of keeping the books pristine and ready to sell. Library books are supposed to be well-read/thumbed-through, so I wouldn’t have to worry about that. Lastly, I think it’d be far easier to hide out in a library than in a bookstore.
10. Would you rather lose your place or get a paper cut every time you read a book?
With losing your place there’s the danger that you’ll get something ruined if you check a page ahead of where you left off–or that you’ll miss something important. Both have happened to me more than I care to think. But I spent one summer in college working in binderies and print-shops and paper-cuts were a near-daily thing–drawing blood at least fortnightly. And…no. Just no. You’d think you’d get used to it, but I never did. I did get a lot better at paper-handling and by late July the cuts were decreasing in frequency, but I never got used the cuts. I’ll take losing my place regularly.
Come to think of it, if anyone is around when I’m reading now (including one of the dogs), I’m bound to get distracted and lose my place anyway.
11. Would you rather have to always read in the dark, or always read books with tiny text?
Well, I get some kind of light, right? I’m not the Newton that wrote Opticks, but I’m pretty sure you have to have some light to see print. So I’m going to intrepret this question as “Would you rather have to always read with very little light, or always read books with tiny text?” Either is not going to do favors for my not-yet-fifty-year-old (but getting close) eyes, but I’m going to go with in the dark/very little light.
Going back to the days when I had a small selection of flashlights next to my bed to use after my folks said “lights out,” I’ve done okay with limited light, frequently without noticing it until my wife turns a lamp on. I still do okay with that–but I think my days are numbered there. Small print is getting harder and harder for me, even with my new bifocals, and I just don’t enjoy it. Large Print editions still give me a headache, so my eyes aren’t too bad, yet.
Of course, if we’re talking about an e-reader, it can be as dark as you want in the room…
12. Would you rather read by a fireplace, or on the beach?
I’ve done both of these repeatedly, so this is easy-peasy. Fireplace.
Fireplaces are indoors, which is almost always a plus in my book. They can be just sitting there inert, or making the vicinity warm and toasty. Either way, it’s an improvement over the absence of a ceiling and the yellow ball of fire overhead. Beaches frequently involve people yelling in the distance, strangers walking by and distracting you, a well-intentioned family member shouting at you to look at something–or telling you that you should put your book down and enjoy things.
Also, fireplaces almost never get sand everywhere on your person, making it too uncomfortable to read. Whereas that’s an ever-present danger on a beach.
As usual, I’m not tagging anyone in this—but I’d like to see what you all have to come up with.
Know Thy Enemy by Jeffery H. Haskell
