A brief history of the Insatiable Booksluts
Rob and Susie met in the year 2000 in a chatroom dedicated to hoity-toity snobby booklust. Being two of the only sane people in the room, they became friends almost immediately. Even though the chatroom imploded due to internet drama, the booksluts remained friends and started a moderately successful online book club in March of 2007. Wanting to share the same experience with even more book lovers, the booksluts decided to start a new venture together: this very blog.
Susie met Amy on Twitter in 2011, and immediately, they both recognized that they were probably separated at birth. Except they’re not the same age, much less having been born on the same day. But whatever, it still totally could have happened. Susie begged Amy to join IB, knowing that the blog would never be complete without her, and after much pleading and showering of gifts, Amy agreed.
That is how our little corner of the internet came to be. We hope you enjoy reading this blog as much as we enjoy reading for and writing it.
Susie learned to read when she was three, surprising her mom in the grocery store by pointing out that an item was “buy one, get one free!” (Susie: Yes, my mom still tells that story all the time. Complete with facial expressions.) She’s been reading voraciously since she was a child, and often above her reading level–if not in difficulty, then definitely in content, as she started reading Stephen King novels when she was eleven. By the time she was in high school, she was voluntarily seeking out Literature while her friends were still reading Goosebumps. She was the only fucking person in her senior English class who understood the book The Catcher in the Rye and is still bitter about the ignorance of her peers to this day.
Rob only remembers using her Crayolas on her Little Golden Books and changing Goldilocks’ curls from yellow to black until the age of nine, when she read Watership Down for the first time. She barely remembers opening anything else book-like for years, except under durance vile in high school, when she was tortured and tormented into reading the likes of Salinger, Steinbeck, and ‘that fucking sot’ O’Neill. Once recovered from this forced literary trauma, Rob became the pissy and picky reader she is proud to be today. Has maturity made Rob a more patient reader these days?
(snorts) Yeah…you bet.
Want to know what’s on Rob’s shelves? Sit back a spell and check her out on Shelfari.
Amy surprised her mother by learning to read much earlier than expected, and sneaking downstairs during naptime to read chapters ahead in The Wizard of Oz. She confessed tearfully a few days later, as she is, and remains, horrendous at subterfuge. In kindergarten, her teacher would have Amy read books to her peers at naptime so she could sneak out in the hall to make out with her boyfriend. This did not endear little Amy to her peers one teeny-tiny bit. Aw. They were just jealous at how awesome she was. (And remains. To this day.)
Amy is the author of Out of True, a poetry collection published in 2012 by Luna Station Press. She blogs at http://lucysfootball.com/ and http://theloserstable.com/, loves theater, obscure punctuation marks, animals, television, and all things geekery, has a very low tolerance for nonsense and grammatical errors, and thinks that comfy pajamas and expensive chocolate should be tax writeoffs. She has a shelf at Goodreads.
Laura spent most of her childhood reading through the library. Between the ages of 8 to about 11 she regularly scared the shit out of herself reading true accounts of demon possession. She was an overachiever in her tiny rural school, often allowed to read whatever literature she wanted during class time, which didn’t make anyone jealous because they didn’t really want to read that stuff anyway. Figuring one day she’d like to get paid to read and write, she got a degree in English, and she’s working on another one. There’s still no paycheck involved, but Laura’s a dreamer.
Laura writes more about books at http://www.thetwors.com, loves knitting, swearing, and pretending she knows a lot about wine (but mostly just knows how to uncork and drink it). She has two very little girls who love reading and a husband who loves that they all love reading. You can check out her shelf at Goodreads, if you fancy.
Tony is a husband, father of four, blogger, ukulele enthusiast, and staff sergeant in the United States Air Force. His mother raised him on Golden Books, and after he learned to read on his own, he checked out the entire mythology section of every library in his town. He quickly became an avid Tolkien junkie, then grew more and more disappointed with Orson Scott Card. He likes reading Hemingway because it makes him feel manly. Now he’s a frustrated writer who’s gradually getting less frustrated. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be reading his books some day.
If you want to read about some of Tony’s many non-reading related interests, check out his blog Your Friend Tony here, or stalk him on the far corners of the internet by way of Twitter (@TheRealTonyBird) or his Facebook page.
While the other kids in school looked forward to recess, little sj begged for extra time in the library. Her parents learned early on that regular punishments had no effect on her, and resorted to taking her books away. Smart little sj got around this by stashing books in various hiding places throughout the house, and even in the garage. This behaviour has carried through to today. Books are stashed in every room of her house – just in case. She’s passed on her love of reading to her four children and loves sharing with them her own childhood favourites.
Other than her family, the two things she absolutely can not live without are her eReader and her iPod. She truly hopes she’s among the first to die when the zombie apocalypse comes so that she doesn’t have to live a day without her ebooks and music. She blogs about books and the Dodisharkicorn at Snobbery and you can follow her on Twitter @popqueenie.
Neal’s mom, craving interaction with her oldest son, once told the reclusive 7-year-old Neal, “If there’s anything in the world I can do for you, anything, you name it, and I’ll make it happen!” Neal sighed, marked his place with his finger, and said, “I’ve got a book. I’ve got a bathroom. I’ve got everything I need. Thanks anyway.” And he shooed her away.
Neal still has a reading problem. But for variety he sometimes indulges his writing problem over at englishmajorversustheworld.