reading-clipart-6These days the pleasure is mainly in the larger print and wider spacing between lines. Really, that’s one of the annoyances of being a little past your prime—not being able to see squat. But recently Ruth Graham said in Slate that I shouldn’t be reading books meant for children. That means I have to justify it now. Seriously, I’ve always liked young adult books, and now new adult has come along with a little bit of added spice.

With apologies to Ms. Graham, there’s a long list of why I really like this segment of the market. First, young adult characters tend to be fresh and hopeful, while adult fiction characters can be harsh and cynical. This means I get that touch of wonder that used to make science fiction and fantasy such wonderful genres. (Shhh. I still love those dragons and elves.) Second, young adult books generally have an upbeat or thoughtful ending. No offense, but if I want, gritty, realistic drama, I can always visit people in the hospital. If I’m feeling depressed, I certainly don’t need more darkness. Last, young adult books are a quick read—I’m a busy person, and I need to get done with the book before I lose it. So, Ms. Graham, am I a case of arrested development? Maybe I’m just too scattered to sit down and work through all those weighty adult tomes.

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