so many books...

I can't remember if I've mentioned this already, but I try not to read too much while I'm in the middle of writing. I realized with my second novel that I tend to pick up part of the author's voice and incorporate it into my own writing. While this works great when there's a new Crusie, it doesn't work so well when I reading something outside of my genre or my tone.

It's been hard not reading, especially since I've seen so many great books recently. But I couldn't give up being surrounded by books so today (Sat) The Boy and I headed to our local independent bookstore (I still have a rather large gift-card to said store from said Boy leftover from Christmas).

I went straight back to the romance section (natch it's two large bookshelves right on the path to the bathroom so I have to constantly move out of the way of old men, screaming babies, and anyone else needing to powder their noses). Turns out they've rearranged since the last time I was there and I think I like it. Now, they have all the contemps in the same area, then all the historicals and paranormals. Really I think it's a good move. If you're in the mood for an historical, you only have to skim two bookshelves worth.

Still, I always find it interesting to see what they shelve in romance and what they shelve in general fiction. I tend to look for Red Dress Ink books, at the very least I'm interested to see what RDI's putting out these days. I found 4 in romance and probably 7 in general fiction. What's the difference? No idea. But I reiterate my theory that chick-lit is having a hard time in part because of this identity crisis.

If I walk into a bookstore looking for a chick-lit I have to skim all of romance and all of general fiction. It's time consuming and hard and I usually give up without finding what I'm looking for.

In other bookstore related news, I looked for the YA books of friends I've met on the boards. Couldn't find a one of them. At my bookstore the YA section is one long (and very very tall) bookshelf that's sectioned off into age groups which makes it difficult to follow if you don't know exactly where the book you're looking for is aimed.

So The Boy, who admits he isn't the voracious reader that I am, ended up with tons of books and I ended up with nothing.

Except for ugly dog. The Boy got it for me as a suprise, so the trip wasn't wasted after all.