I am reading as a judge for the World Fantasy Awards. It’s… a lot. Even with five judges, and an initial pass where every work gets read by two of us… it’s a very lot. If you can’t find me, look under the pile of words.
It’s made me think about my reading habits when I was a teenager. My father used to accuse me of sucking down books like a vacuum cleaner, and wondered if I even noticed what I was reading. In fact, I did notice: to this day there are passages from books I read at 15 that I could probably recite. And some of those books were not great–they just offered me something I, as a 15-year-old reader, wanted. I read every SF book I could find on the drugstore spinner racks; all the Regency romances, ditto, and the gothic romances (the term meant something different then than it appears to mean now). I was not reading the best literature, as it was defined by the NY Times Book Review and my mother: I was consuming books like Fritos. Some of them had nutritional value; some didn’t.
So now I’m reading to find the fantasy and horror from 2025 that is not only nutritious but is working at a Michelin star level. That’s a pretty high bar to clear. I don’t think most writers intend to write “Frito” books–I certainly didn’t when I wrote my first Regency romance (I wanted to write a book that would give me something of the same feeling I had when I read Georgette Heyer). I think many writers just want to tell themselves and the rest of the world a story, just as many home cooks just want to make a good pot roast and feed the family. Let me note that good home made pot roast is hard to beat. But my brief, as a judge, is to find the Best. To do that I have to keep my eye on my prejudices (and I’ll note: everyone has prejudices. The trick is to know it, and get a handle on what they are.)
For instance: I sort of wish that the books (well over 200 so far, and there are some I know haven’t arrived yet) came without covers, because I have to keep an eye on how the cover of a book colors my approach to the book itself. There have been a few books where the covers visually promised sophistication and depth that the text did not deliver. Likewise, there have been a couple of books that had frankly uninspiring covers, but were themselves well worth reading. Years ago I trafficked covers for Tor Books, which meant I saw all the artwork before it was put into covers. My father was a designer. My brother is a painter. I have opinions, but I’m putting them into a box for now.
I have a tendency to prefer stand-alone books (or books in a series which are discrete episodes rather than “continued on the next rock” contributions to a very long saga) in part because the further along in a series you are, the more backstory you have to fill in for a new reader (and a writer who doesn’t accept that some readers will come in in media res is just–no, you can’t demand that they go back and find the first three books of your series). So books that come in with the label “Book Three in the Artichokes of Dread Saga” or what have you make me worried.
On the other hand, I hope to be surprised.
That’s really the secret to this process. I long to be surprised and delighted. And I am confident I will be.