I turn aside; I am older, braver. I watch words pass like a river in front of me, enticing in their difference. I wade in.
Pages from Fantasy books open and I am captivated. My excitement mounts; I plunge into Horror, come up smiling and dive into Romance.
I am drowning, overwhelmed by cloying words and emotions. With relief I grasp a beloved book categorized as Romance. A narrow escape, but Jane Austen has allowed no genre to defeat me.