Rate five things you know, from any shelf. Your archetype shows up in about a minute, and gets sharper with every log.

Swallow, daughter, pull them in, those words that sit upon your lips. Lock them deep inside your soul, hide them 'til they've time to grow. Close your mouth upon the power, curse not, cure not, 'til the hour.
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Grave, bleak, overwhelming and earnest.
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On Open Library, 3 have read it and 15 want to.
Closest on the same fourteen dimensions, from everything scored on Taste Buds. Other media included when they land close.