Book Schnook

So I just finished a book yesterday that I had in my possession for three weeks. In fact, I still have it. It’s due back at the library today, along with two others that I have yet to read. Yes, three weeks ago I took out three books, ambitiously telling myself I would read one a week (I’ve recently been upgraded to “educable”! How I love Sylvan Learning Center!). Yet it took me until yesterday to complete one.
My project for the day is to read one of the other two. In its entirety. I am proud to say that I am up for/to the challenge. I daresay that I hope to not only complete a second book but to — now sit down, because this is a lot to handle — start the third.
I’m a little scared, though. The first of the three books really, well … how do I put this without making anyone cry … well, it … sucked. Blew. Bit. And otherwise was just not good. At all. And no, I will not divulge its title or its author. I will only say that her last name begins with an “H” and that it is a book of short stories, published in 2001. So armed with that arsenal of information, you should have no trouble at all finding it on Amazon.com, bn.com, or atrociouslytritetripethatremindsjodiofcrapshewasforcedtoendureinacollegeshortstoryclass.com.
I don’t know why I felt compelled to finish the book when it caused me interminable anguish. I don’t know why I continued past the second story when the first made me groan miserably and bleed copiously from the ears. I just felt sorry for the book, I guess. And the black and white photo of the author, on a page at the very end of the book, well … she looks like such a nice, decent person. Too bad her book fucking sucks.
So I’m off. I can’t wait to see what Nancy Drew discovers today!