I kind of love it like cake. With rainbow sparkles sprinkles. Carried in by ponies. Pink ponies. If I had a hard copy, I would snuggle it. I'm going to read the other two, but they'll have to wait until I reread the first one again.
[...]
A lot of people are really passionate about these books. Some of them love and defend them passionately; others... well. I'm not going to defend them any more than I'm going to defend Twinkies--you go and get yourself a Twinkie when you have a very specific kind of craving SUGARRRRR!. If you want gourmet pastry, or even a homemade cake, you know where to get that. If you're eating a Twinkie, you clearly know what you want and why you're eating it, and you know that it's not good to eat very many of them, but... you know... sometimes you just want one. And then when you're done you read it all over again. Apparently there are people who think that Twinkies count as fine dining, but... well, live and let live, I guess.
This remains one of my favorite ways of expressing love of books and other media that maybe isn’t “high brow” or often not even particularly well written in the traditional sense, but is enjoyable regardless. I need to make an effort to use it more than “trash” because I really need to break the habit of calling stuff I love “trash” just because it’s fluffy and stars a woman instead of a white dude named Skywalker, Bond, or Indiana.