Oh, brother

It seems I don't have the same taste in books as my father. Which is perfectly all right with me except for one thing--he also judges a book's quality, not just his personal preference. Of course, to hear him talk you'd think he likes anything if it's good, but doesn't like something if it's bad. But, anyway, it seems like if a book is labled "On My Shelf" on his book blog, I am immediately either going to love it to death, or (much more often) get bored to death. Either that, or it's a home publication of terrible literary quality that I wrote. Scary. Anyhow, this brings up an interesting point: When I grow up, I'm going to write books, but how will I get them good enough to rate them on my father's shelf by their merit alone? Seems my favorite books get a "check it out" rating, or worse...Splinter of the Mind's Eye was waiting room material! (Just kidding. I have better taste in literature than that. And as for reading harmless pulpish fiction to wile away the hours of a summer afternoon, I'm hardly the most guilty of that in the family) But I write stuff like my favorite books (except Jane Eyre. Who can top that? Not I!), sooo...