I finish a book once I have started to read it. It could be the worse thing ever written and I still trudge through the pages until the final one. I just can't put it down and step away. I keep hoping, maybe it will get better. Or I think, maybe I'm missing something here, some deeper meaning and message. Then I wonder if maybe I'm too distracted at the moment to appreciate the book.
This curse has set in after a fashion with the latest book gracing my living room end table. Nope, it didn't make it to the night stand. When I was at the bookstore on Tuesday, one of the volunteers was carrying a recent library discard title. It was Stephenie Meyer's "The Host." Now, I had wanted to read the book to see how it compared to the 'Twilight" series. I came home with the novel and began reading it yesterday afternoon. The story premise is interesting, but I am putting forth way too much effort to turn those pages. I will admit to skimming a huge section at one point. As of page 183, I feel this book landed on the bestsellers lists due to the coattails of her teenage vampires. At this point in the story, I just don't think it would have ever been published without the other books taking the YA world by storm.
I will finish the book. Maybe my mind will be changed. I'll post again once I reach the end.