Controversial? I just think she's patronizing.

Linda wrote a post a few days ago about banned books and censorship. Evidently Judy Blume is number two on the Author Most Likely to Have Would-Be Censors Clamoring for Her Blood list.

What prompts me to blog about this isn't what you'd think. Yeah, my hackles sat straight up and growled when I read her name, but it has nothing to do with censorship. I have no desire to either burn her books or yank them off the fire.

No, it's just that I can't stand her writing.

When I was in junior high school, lo, these many years ago, I had Judy Blume thrust in front of my oblivious nose every time I turned around.

Teacher: "You should read this! She's a great writer. She understands your age group."
Jennifer: Takes book gingerly and reluctantly, holding corner by two fingers. "Oh, wow, thanks."

I know. I am probably the only woman of my generation who doesn't just looooove Judy Blume with great big lavender hearts. Trust me, I feel the isolation.

Give me a break, though. I tried to read her books. It's just that they all seemed be the same story, and not one I found appealing. Angst-ridden teenager in a comfortable situation with a fairly decent family feels misunderstood and neglected, so he/she spends his/her time in whining and self-pity, indulging in sometimes petty, sometimes serious criminal behavior designed to get attention.

This was supposed to be a reflection of my life? This was supposed to be something I could relate to?

Now, I was as self-pitying as any other adolescent. But I just couldn't get into a story about a boy who plays peeping Tom to the poor girl next door (or was she across the street? I can't remember.) I was focused in other directions. Parents don't understand you? That's OK! Save the world and it won't matter!

I read Lord of the Rings three times in the 6th grade. Donny Osmond? Oh, he was cute (I had a poster of him hidden inside my closet door in fact, which I would kiss when I was sure I was alone - ROTFLOL at myself,) but my real love was Frodo. Now there was someone who was misunderstood, a tortured lonely soul who needed me, not Sam, by his side.

I identified with Fiver. I fell in love with the Beast. I plotted ways to escape the Dipple, struggled through the wastes of High Hallack with Gillan, dreamed of going to space with Podkayne. There was no whining in those books, just buckling down and doing what had to be done. That's what I liked about them. They inspired me to take charge of my life. Blume's books didn't inspire me. They were just depressing.

I fervently hope my daughters don't ever turn out to be Judy Blume fans. I won't snatch the books out of their hands, if they are, but I will be very disappointed. Hopefully, if I fill the house with enough fantasy and science fiction, the question will never come up.