Read 5/4/10 - 5/11/10
2 Stars - Recommended Lightly
Oh boy. This one was kind of painful. Which perfectly fit the title. It's like it was telling me subconsciously "Don't read this novel without pain killers".
I haven't struggled with a novel like this in a long time. I kept waiting for it to hook me. I wanted it to hook me. It seemed like it was always on the verge of hooking me. Like an itch you can feel, back between the shoulder blades, but can't reach it in order to relieve it. It was poised, right on the edge, and just never seemed to take the plunge.
It's inability to hook me ended up frustrating me. I threatened to put it down and never pick it back up again unless it delivered soon. It just sat there, this bulky mass of pages and words that failed to give me what I wanted. And I just sat there, too, muttering more threats and curses under my breath, as I turned the pages again and again, waiting for it to WOW me. Waiting for it to hook me.
Then I began to beg it, and plead with it. Please, I whispered in a little voice, please just reach out and grab me. That's not too much to ask, is it? And still, the book just sat there. And still, I kept turning the pages.
I should have just dropped it, left it there on the bookshelf, with the bookmark holding the page I would never return to. I should have been strong. To teach it a lesson. To show it that I would not be taken advantage of. That it could not just sit there like that, teasing me like that, always remaining on the edge like that.
But it had me wrapped around it's massive wordy little finger. I was it's bitch. And it knew it. And it never fucking delivered.
Bet it's having the last laugh right now. While I sit here stewing over the 7 days I spent with the book that just would not deliver.