AudioShocker

Now that I ride the bus to work, it has become necessary for me to read two books at one time. I need “public” reading for the bus and “private” reading for at home. I doubt that anyone actually notices what I’m reading on the bus, but I know that 90% of the time, if I’m sitting next to someone who’s reading, I semi-blatantly check out their book. And sometimes there’s something so strange I look at them for a while and think, “I wonder what they do when they’re alone, since they’ll actuallly read that in front of people on the bus.” So yes, sometimes I literally and metaphorically judge a book by its cover.

So, what’s my #1 choice for “public” reading? Jodi Picoult, hands-down. Interesting, timely, page-turners with discreet titles and covers. She must write at least one book a year, and she’s been writing for a while, so she keeps me in non-embarrassing material for the 500. You can see how PC she is by looking on her web site. A cute pic of her, in front of a field of tulips is the first thing you see. Some titles of her books: “My Sister’s Keeper”, “The Pact”, “Mercy”, “The Tenth Circle”. Totally bus-safe.

And the “private” reading? Right now, that honor goes to Eric Jerome Dickey. Scadalous, drama-filled, soap operas that mainly take place in L.A. They’re filled with sex, cheating, lying, and lines like, “Quick, somebody give Grandma Cellulite a fun house mirror.” Seriously, you have to love it.

Don’t get me wrong, Dickey is a really good writer - detailed, with a definite voice, and he has carved out a style in fiction in much the same way that Tyler Perry has done with film. But not even his book titles are ok for the bus. “Milk in My Coffee”, “Pleasure”, “Naughty or Nice”. And his web site? It’s a black background, his music video-type book covers scrolling across the screen, a slow, bluesy song playing. It would make Jodi and her tulips blush. Every time I get on an Eric Jerome kick, my boyfriend shakes his head at me, points to one of the X-rated passages, and says, “I can’t believe what my girlfriend is reading. Eric Jerome Cocky.”

I was brave enough to cross the line last week, though. I gave it a shot. I took “The Other Woman” by Mr. Dickey on the bus. I made sure to hold it far enough down so that the cover didn’t show, but the problem was that in doing this, the woman sitting next to me and the man standing over me could easily read the words on the page. I just knew that one of them was reading the part about the “white French girl and her African-American boyfriend” who “put on a show for about thirty voyeurs.” And I also knew that they wouldn’t understand that actually, the book is very smart. It gets into the heart of relationships, peoples’ weaknesses, their faults, the way that they negotiate creating a life with someone else. So, with twenty minutes left to go on the bus, I abandoned my bravery, put it away, and finished it at home that night. And picked up “Liar’s Game” as soon as I was done.