I scream absurd! (or, I care about what strangers think of me)

I have loved listing all the books I've read (and want to read) on goodreads.com. There are other sites similar to it--librarything.com, shelfari, etc. For me, Goodreads had the prettiest and most coherent format.

Most of the books I finish I like. Many of them I love. (See my Goodreads books page here--most of my reviews are 3-5 stars.) Am I too kind in reviewing books? I think not. Perhaps one could argue that I am too specific in choosing them in the first place. But I can read whatever the hell I want, right? Who's to say I have to force myself to muddle through a book I'm not enjoying?

And speaking of that, let's get back to the topic, shall we? Awhile ago, I finally got my hands on a copy of Wigfield, a book I'd long since wanted to peruse. To my dismay, I didn't enjoy what I read of it. I posted a brief review about it online. (The link follows.) Last night, an email appeared in my inbox: "Notice: Shannon has posted a response to review on Goodreads.com! Click here to read it!" So I did, and I ended up feeling rebuffed. Here it is.

Why am I ever-so-slightly upset by this stranger's feedback, you ask? Because I am absurd! I scream fairly-deep-sense-of-absurdity-instilled-within! I understand her comment, as the book is goofy and strange--hey, I mentioned that in my review. But my not liking the book has noth....

Okay. I don't need to defend myself.

Let's rewind to the late 80s for a minute, for just a little context. A gangly, outgoing girl named Janet attends Huntley Hills School. Happily surrounded by friends in this very small elementary school right outside of Atlanta, Janet enjoys reading, playing outside, creating imagined worlds, bossing her next-door neighbor Jeffrey around, and writing novels whose heroines are either thinly disguised versions or herself or cats (one of her more lengthy stories was called "Ginger Kitten"). Slowly but surely, she has begun realizing that the way she thinks is markedly different from most kids and adults she encounters. Her reactions to situations, her answers to questions, her inability to pick just one "right" answer on a multiple choice test. Though she tends to remain well-liked throughout her school career, this is the age when some fellow students start pointing out that she is, in a word, weird.

This throws her into quite a state at first. Should she try to be normal? Should she pretend that the thoughts racing through her head are not actually there? Should she just pick answer b and pretend that she can't make an argument for a, c, and d as well?

This confused state doesn't last long, for Janet has an answer: she will embrace her oddities. She will let the world call her weird and smile back at them. Rather than insulting herself first before others can, she will consider this complimenting herself first before others can. Then another idea hits her oft-obnoxious mind: she will TELL others to call her weird! Aha! She tells friends, neighbors, and classmates, "Hey, call me weird, 'cause I'm weird!" She goes so far as to tell teachers (most notably third grade classroom teacher Ms. Jackson), "Ms. Jackson, call me weird!" She has now unwittingly set in stone a nickname for herself, one that will last for at least two decades to come: Janet "Call me 'Weird' " Geddis. (Only one or two friends, one of whom has a birthday in 6 hours, calls her this in the year 2007, but hey. It stuck.)

So this is why I am ever-so-slightly irked when I am called not absurd.

The end.