I'm going through a reading drought. The library is being remodeled so large parts are shut off and what's left is over-crowded with people, under-crowded with books. Plus, as I chose my books, I had one of those days when no book pleased me and the few I did pick faded when I got them home. Ever have that happen? The jacket blurb sounds promising, the first page or two reads well, but when you really start reading... you lose interest. This time it was a slim novel that had been a runner up for a National Book Award; the first 30 pages were well written, obviously, with an interesting main character and situation... until the curse of literary fiction set in. Nothing happened. Nothing continued to happen for the next 100 pages. After that, well, I got interrupted and set the book down, it sat on the bathroom counter for a week... Eventually even I took the hint that I'd never go back to it.
Instead I'm rereading old Terry Pratchett's for the 100th time. (Mort at the moment - about Death's apprentice.)
No comments:
Post a Comment