How far does author loyalty take you when you just don’t like a book?
My TBR and “currently reading” list on Goodreads right now is a massacre. I’ve finished a few books lately, but they’ve all been ones I’ve started after the ones that are still on my CR now, after months.
Before I go any further, I will say that I have gotten much better at allowing myself to DNF books I am just not vibing with, especially if they’re not something I’ve wasted a ton of money on (thank you, Kindle Unlimited). I’m still burned by the experience of having spent $13 on “A Discovery of Witches” on Nook only to realize that it was fucking awful not even ten percent in. I’ve got such a mental block on that book that I just had to google the title because for the life of me I couldn’t remember it. But I digress – point is, I felt major guilt over it because fourteen bucks is expensive for an e-book, and I felt like I had to finish it because of that, even though I found it boring, overrated, and straight-up derivative.
Slogging through a book you hate makes no sense when you’re at a point in your life, as I am, that you’re no longer obligated to read anything. I haven’t been in school for over 20 years now, so I’ve got the freedom to read whatever I want, whenever I want.
Why then, do I have difficulty finishing some books, and feel like I have to? I’ll admit, I have a much easier time abandoning a bad KU read, because even though it’s a subscription service, monetarily you come out on top if you read a lot because you’re not investing 3-10 bucks per book. They’re easy to return, and it’s just as easy to find something you love as it is to find a crappy read.
A lot of it has to do with author loyalty. We all have our favorites, and much like I used to reserve the next Harry Potter books months ahead of release in Borders (yes, Borders), I’ll often pre-order the upcoming book for an author I’ve enjoyed in the past. 90% of the time I’m rewarded with another great read, but there are several times where I’m just left shaking my head and wondering how I could have gone so wrong.
Take Sally Thorne, for example. The Hating Game is brilliant, and a gold standard for contemporary romantic fiction. It deserves every accolade it gets, and I could probably read that book and fantasize about Joshua Templeman til my husband is blue in the balls. I eagerly went straight for 99% Mine, and made it a fair few chapters in thinking I’d picked another winner only to realize soon after that first impression aren’t everything. I hated that book, I hated the premise, I hated the characters, and I hated the protagonist. Do you know how hard it is to read a book written in the voice of someone that you would murder if such a thing was legal? Not easy. I’m not sure how I finished it, but I did, I eviscerated it on Goodreads, and I moved on.
When Sally’s third book, Second First Impressions, came out, I reserved it with some trepidation, but I was ultimately hopeful because for all its faults, I did see flashes of the brilliance that is THG in 99%. I’m glad I gave her a second (third) chance, because SFI was just as amazing as THG – they’re different, and I enjoyed them both for different reasons, but quality wise it’s just as good. Sally does the quirky-yet-endearing girl so well, and when she’s on she’s on, but when she’s off….she’s like on Mars or something. That became plainly evident when I picked up her fourth book, Anjelika Frankenstein Makes Her Match.
The premise of that is straight up bonkers, but I don’t have a problem with an out-there plot because fiction isn’t supposed to be real, and while I do read some contemporary stuff, I gravitate to things with a fantasy-lean because it’s easier not to get caught up in the bullshit that is romance and let it ruin your actual life. That’s a major danger for people who read for comfort or to fill in the gaps in their real life and I hope to look at it more in detail at some point, but for now know that people like me generally need a firm line in the sand between reality and pretend or else I’ll find myself in yet another depressive puddle for weeks at a time.
In any case, I didn’t have any problem with the fact that the book was about a woman who literally makes her ideal man, and let me tell you, the first few chapters are fucking literary comedic gold. It’s like Lucy’s inner monologue from THG dialed up to eleven after overdosing on leftover Halloween candy. Unfortunately that wore off pretty quickly, because I came to realize that, much like Darcy in 99%, Anjelika is a petulant spoiled prig who is so out of touch with reality, that making a man out of discarded body parts actually doesn’t seem that fucking weird.
She’s awful. I can’t root for her. Even as she strives to better, she still somehow manages to be selfish. Thankfully, this book has better supporting characters, but it’s really difficult to get into a romance when, even when the hero is a treat, you are scratching your head so hard as to why he’s as into the heroine as he is that you give yourself a bald spot. It was like this with Darcy and Tom, and it’s literally the same exact way with Anjelika and Will.
I’m currently at 68% and frankly I don’t know if I have the fortitude to finish it because I have an entire office’s worth of books that are begging me to finally start them, and I want to dammit! I’m not geriatric or anything but I am aware that life is too short to waste time reading books you just don’t like, especially if you’re not educationally obligated to do so.
I’ll probably wind up abandoning Anjelika officially soon (i.e. the move to my Goodreads DNF shelf), but my knowledge of the fact that Sally Thorne can definitely do better, and has, still makes me a little iffy. I know this sounds completely mental, but I almost feel like letting Anjelika go without seeing it through almost taints the experience of having thoroughly enjoyed THG and SFI. It makes no sense, I know. Authors are human and almost all of them wind up writing at least one clunker in their careers but I’m still having difficulty seeing how something so disappointing and something so perfect can be generated by the same mind. Plus, I’m at 68%, and historically it takes something really offensive to get me to abandon a book at that point, having been able to tolerate it enough to make it this far.
In any case, deciding whether or not you like a book enough to finish it should be an objectively simple decision – either you like something or you don’t. I don’t know why I let ephemeral loyalties get in the way of easy decision like that, to the point that they’re most likely keeping me from reading something I’m going to love right off the bat (One Dark Window, Rachel Gillig, read it, love it, TRUST ME). Sally Thorne, I love you, I respect you, and I recognize your talent. You are funny, clever, and have a true gift for writing dialogue that is both batshit crazy and completely endearing at the same time. However, you seem to gravitate towards writing about awful women we’re supposed to root for but would actually like to push into oncoming traffic almost as much as you do women we wind up cosplaying in our bedrooms alone at night. It’s probably for the latter reason that I’ll keep coming back for more in the future.
After all, no matter how bad one book might be, it still can’t erase the fact the other, amazing ones are out there for all posterity, just waiting for another visit.
FYI, if you’re interested, my Goodreads page can be found here.. Friend me, argue with me, help me find stuff I don’t want to throw out a window!
Keep It To Your Shelf 