I hate movies*.
I said that to a professor in my MA program once, and she looked at me as if I had committed the biggest social faux pas ever–which I probably did. She couldn’t understand how I could hate movies because they were so wondrous to her. I couldn’t really put into words why I had said that, but I’ve given it plenty of thought since then and have come up with a few reasons why I’m so disinterested in movies.
One, I’m an avid book lover. One of my mom’s favorite embarrassing stories to tell about me is that when I was two, I’d hold the newspaper in front of my face and pretend to read it–upside down. When I started school at age six, I could already read. I had taught myself how between age two and age six. By the time I was seven, I was reading everything I could get my hands on. It’s all I wanted to do in my spare time. We didn’t watch much TV when I was a kid, and we never went to the movies. I hated Superman and Star Wars when I saw them, and I didn’t much care about ET, either. I still get lifted eyebrows when I say I hate Star Wars, which I don’t mention often for that very reason.
Side note: I don’t like the Beatles, Taxi Driver, or Seinfeld, either. You may all shut down your browsers in disgust now.
Reading was my escape, and I liked books that had sparse descriptions because then I could create the worlds in my own mind. Even as a writer, I struggle to describe things because it’s not something I enjoy reading. If there are paragraphs of scenery, I skip right over it. When I talk about my characters, I use very limited and basic vocabulary. “Her black hair reaches her waist, and her dark brown eyes are often sad.” It’s not one of my strong points, and I’ve accepted that when it comes to description, I’m a minimalist. I like to write dialogue, however; that’s where I really shine. I also enjoy writing about the feelings, emotions, and characters’ inner lives. As a former psych major, I’m fascinated by motivations and intricate, complicated relationships, so that’s what I focus on in my writing.