I don’t usually read YA stuff. Or sci-fi-ish stuff, unless the husband somehow talks me into it. I guess this falls more into the realm of fantasy?
If anyone recommended these books to me with any seriousness, I very well might have rolled my eyes inwardly and made a mental note to forever after question their taste.
But once I read the first book in Cassandra Clare’s Mortal Instruments series–City of Bones–I was hooked. Not because there’s anything particularly amazing about the books. As a matter of fact, I wanted to hate the series and rail against its inconsistencies and its hopelessly twisted agnostic worldview and its typical young-adultish melodrama.
Digression: One Goodreads viewer actually wrote that she wants to believe this world exists. What kind of messed up person wants to live in a world where the only thing keeping us ordinary humans from the whims of demons is a team of narcissistic dagger-wielding teenagers and a group of even less-trustworthy adults who can’t get their act together?
Regardless. Instead of embracing my inner critic, I just picked up the next one. And then the next. Repeat like 7x.
They’re unlimited on Oyster, so why not? And why take the effort to get to know a whole new set of characters in a book I may or may not like when I’m already addicted to these and have. to. know. what happens to them next?
I guess Cassandra Clare must have done something right.
I’m claiming these as the trilogy on my 2015 reading list, since I have to claim it as something and technically the entire series is made up of three trilogies. I’m dismissing the critic in me, because I needed some junk food reading in my life, and all my pregnant self wants to do is sit on the sofa and do nothing, and for the month of May, this has been my nothing.
I feel like I should read War and Peace and then Moby Dick back-to-back next to make up for this indiscretion. And to clear my mind of nonsense like demon hunters with superhuman powers and angels with iridescent wings.