Just like most readers, I have my favorite genres: psychological thriller and horror. I read a lot of contemporary romance and recently got into sports romance (I really did not know that was a thing until I did some research and found out there are lots and lots of sports romance books) and occasionally read sci-fi/dystopian, and I’ll read biographies if they’re interesting enough and/or if it’s about a person or celebrity I really like. I have a few favorite Young Adult authors (some of which I’ve met!). I also love historical fiction, but would rather read a story based on actual historical facts. Although, I’m not too fond of Non-Fiction books all that much either. All in all, I like to think I’m a well-rounded, well-read, erm, reader… person?
With all that said, I tend to be more of a mood reader. I will read whatever I am in the mood to read. Sometimes, I can be in a dark place mentally and I need to read darker books. Books that are mind twisters and will leave you feeling somber. On the flip side, there are times where reality (read: politics, news) has me already feeling somber and disgusted with humanity that I need a quick, light, fluffy read to get me out of my own head and keep me away from the internet. There usually is no in between for me.
There is one genre, though, that just can’t seem to pique my interest. It doesn’t do anything for me, and I hope I’m not the only one who feels this way- self-help books. I’ve tried reading self-help books, but to me, it is redundant to read something that you could be helping yourself to physically do in the first place, you know? Like, from the summaries I gather from a lot of these books, it’s really common sense. I know why I am the way I am. I know I can be cruel, cold, distant and unapproachable, but I promise you I am a happy, content, confident, kind, genuine and honest person. I am like any other person who can be insecure and confused and lonely but I refuse to let those down times define who I am and what I want to be. I don’t need to read in a book that everything you do or have or want is all based on choices. You have to love yourself before you can love another person. Keep moving forward. I’ve learned and taught myself these cliches from a very young age and have since gained that much more experience.
I understand that this may seem like I’m bashing self-help books, I’m really not. I’m simply saying that self-help, in my opinion, are pointless. If it helps you be a better person, great. But you can’t live life experiences from a book. You have to go out and make mistakes and take risks and CHOOSE to be happy. It’s far easier to be sad or angry, but what you give into the world, you get back. I believe in that. I believe in energies and karma and anything in relation to that.
I’m not a perfect person, in fact, I’ll be the first to admit I am very contradicting. I won’t ever take my advice no matter how right I am (and 9.5 times out of ten, I am right), but still, I am a very happy person. I may not look like it because I’m not this bubbly, perky, smiley person, but I promise you, I am very content with where I am in life right now.
Life is too short to defend the kind of books you read, so please, don’t let me discourage you from reading what you like, but self-help books aren’t for me. I have maybe a few on my bookshelves, but I don’t think they’ve ever been read. The main reason I read is to take me to another place, just temporarily. I like feeling like I’m in another world sometimes. I’d rather not read from another person, who is imperfect and also going through life’s motions like I am, advising me on how I should do… something to live a better life, or a more fuller life, or whatever kind of life, or to be happy. I think being happy is subjective, anyway.
Just wanted to share my thoughts on this subject.