Hate reading

Since I retired my reading habits have changed a bit. No longer do I read professional journals for book reviews to keep up with the latest titles, nor do I curate a collection of young adult titles which I have my pick of to read.

Instead, I now go to the library for print books.

I find myself primarily at the Delaware or Pine Hills branches, but can see myself broadening my horizons to explore other libraries as time goes on. Individual libraries each reflect the community where they are located, and the interests of their patrons, and the collections of my two usual haunts lean heavily towards thriller mysteries. I enjoy this genre, but I’d like to find a branch with a good travel section and some newer memoirs.

Yesterday, when I returned my books at the Delaware Avenue branch of the public library, I made a point of sharing my opinion about one of the books I had borrowed. I wanted the clerks to know that this book was…let’s say exceptional.

In fact, it may have been one of the most poorly written books I’d ever forced myself to finish.

You see, after many, many years of being a voracious reader, I’ve finally learned that it’s ok to abandon a book if it isn’t engaging or of interest. I’ve accepted that truth and can, without too much regret, stop reading something that I’m not enjoying. This book, however, was different. I didn’t merely find the plot to be inane and sewn together with the most gossamer of threads.

The writing was simply terrible.

In fact, it was so awful that I continued reading it to see what unlikely plot turn was next. I wanted to know if it was possible for this thriller to get even worse.

I was hate reading.

Apparently this author had written a number of books in this genre. This particular title has a few positive reviews on Amazon, but we all know the perils of relying on online reviews. Maybe they were written by the author’s family or friends. Regardless, with the confidence of an English major/librarian, I offer my take: don’t waste your time with this book.

Instead, get yourself one of these recent reads – ones that I hated to see end.

• My Friends by Fredrik Backman. Wow. I loved this story of childhood friends and the lasting impact of their bonds of friendship. Filled with humor that offset the physical violence present, I found myself laughing out loud frequently. Beautifully translated and written.

• Wild Dark Shore by Charlotte McConaghy. I’ve never read anything quite like this novel. It’s primarily set on a research island off the shore of Australia, one where scientists study flora and fauna among the remains of evidence of the fur seal trade that devastated the species. It’s a dark book in many ways, but the underlying question as I internalized it was this: what can we do as individuals to improve the health of our shared planet? What can we preserve and what must we release? So good.

• The Correspondent by Virginia Evans. I haven’t quite finished this one yet, but as an avid letter/card writer I am thoroughly enjoying this epistolary work. One of my retirement tasks is to wade through the shoeboxes of personal correspondence I’ve been collecting for decades and this book has me feeling inspired.

How about you? Are you able to toss a title aside without feeling compelled to finish it? Have you read anything exceptional recently?