I love finishing a bad book

Yeah, I should have posted yesterday, but I was busy. SORRY.

I mean I WAS busy. I went to the gym, lined up a freelance project, canned tomato sauce, cooked dinner for two of my favorite guys Bill and Mikey, and had music rehearsal. So I really wasn’t slacking off. But, well, maybe I’d have had enough time to do a post if I hadn’t sat down to finish that book I’d been nursing along on my Kindle.

Cover via Amazon (Yeah, that’s not my hand. Or my Kindle)

Its not like it was a GOOD book.

It wasn’t.

It was an OK mystery and I don’t even LIKE mysteries.

The writer kept TELLING things that she should have put into dialog and kept putting things in dialog that she should have just TOLD the reader.

There was a big side plot about knitting and fiber and yarn and that kept my interest tied up long after the mystery got stale. (See what I did there? “Tied up”)

… And there were dogs. I’m a sucker for dogs. Shame the chemistry between the protagonist and her boyfriend wasn’t as warm as the connection between her and her dogs.

Third generation Amazon Kindle, showing text from the novel Moby-Dick. Esperanto: Amazon Kindle de la tria generacio, montranta originan tekston el la romano Moby-Dick. (Photo credit: Wikipedia) [Again, not my Kindle. But you can see the indicator bar at the bottom. This person is about 25% the way through a book about Greenland right-whales.]

And I did, dag-gone-it!

There’s something liberating about finishing a book you don’t really care about.

With out the usual emotional investment I attach to a book at about page 70, I was able to put this book down and just walk away. I just didn’t care.

I don’t find myself thinking what the characters are doing post book or daydreaming about them as I walk the dog.  Nope. Don’t care.

So thank you bad book author. Because the only person who apparently cares less about your characters than you … is me. 🙂

I can’t wait to read the next book on my Kindle, Ending Up by Ellen Dye. Or the one I got out the library. Or the one my friend Joyce sent me as an out-of-the-blue present in the mail (an actual present in the mail!!! for no reason at all!!!) Which ever one I read has already been granted the prize of not having to follow a wonderful book.  So YEAH them! And yeah me!

English: Stack of books in Gould’s Book Arcade, Newtown, New South Wales (NSW), Australia. (Photo credit: Wikipedia) [Not my books, but my pile is almost as big.)