I haven’t been finishing books lately. I bring it home, and I discover that I truly dislike something in the book. Perhaps the hero isn’t an ok person. The character may be a good cop or inspector, but being beaten or whipped gives them pleasure. This doesn’t give me pleasure no matter how many rave reviews adorn the jacket.
Perhaps a personal friend recommended a book with glowing enthusiasm. I shan’t ever tell her that the book bored me to death. There’s now a pile of boring books just waiting to go back to the shop. That’s the bottom line…if the book is unreadable, I will quietly move on to something else. Even if I have found other books in a series truly exciting and one lacking, I don’t want to be the one to tell that author the book is unreadable. How sad that it is.
Why authors write words that are essentially doom, gloom, or confusion, I do not know. Perhaps they are becoming senile. The home stress has grown and the author cannot write coherently any longer, or Alzheimer’s. One of my very favorite mystery writers faded away and eventually died of that horrible disease. Depression has taken another.
We don’t have to read books that don’t work with our brains. Perhaps we are becoming senile ourselves. Maybe we have undiagnosed Alzheimer’s of our own. Of course we are depressed as we struggle to read all these unreadable books. It would be nice to know the ending tho.