Disappointment

It's rare that I don't finish reading a book. In fact, it's rare that I don't finish reading one the day that I start it. But the last book I started - on Thursday afternoon - is still unfinished, and it may remian so. And the particularly disappointing thing for me is that it's by one of my auto-buy authors.

A book she wrote last year was the only category romance I've ever read that made me cry. And I don't mean sniff and wipe a tear away cry, but real have-to-put-the-book-down-for-a-while sobbing. Okay, so I was a bit hormonal at the time, but even still, it was a damn good book, and deserved the Rita it won.

So, I feel kinda sad that the current book just doesn't do it for me. The writing is good - this author has an evocative, lyrical style I love - but there are elements in the characterisations that I find really hard to accept as being admirable, yet the plot hinges on them. Her previous book had a similar response from me, although not quite as strong.

She'll still be an autobuy for now, but I do hope her next book moves away from this current trend. I don't enjoy not liking a book.