When Do You Bail on a Book?

My monthly book group, Tea & Mystery, met last night.  Although some of our members prefer coffee to tea, we all love reading the same mystery and discussing it.  Through the group, I've found many titles and authors that have become favorites of mine.

This month's selection wasn't one of those.

At the beginning of the meeting, over half the members admitted they hadn't finished the book.  I was one of them.  This is very unusual for me.  I always make an effort to get the group book finished in time for the meeting.  Occasionally I run out of time but I don't recall ever just deciding not to finish.

For one thing, I'm very character driven.  Once I make a connection with a character I simply have to find out what happens to him/her.  Even if the story is weak or the writing doesn't appeal to me, I stay with it until the end.  I can't walk away without knowing.

With this book, I read well past the introduction of all the major characters and story threads (there were a bunch), but there was no connection.  I tried to force myself to keep going but I reached a point where I had to admit I had no interest in finishing this book.  I really didn't care what happened to these characters or who had done what to who and why.  I also decided my time is too valuable to waste reading a book I didn't enjoy.

Wow.  What a concept.  A bit of an epiphany for me.  I didn't have to finish.

How about you?  Once you start a book, do you feel you have to finish it? 

How far do you read before you decide it's not for you? 

Do you have a point of no return - if you made it that far, you'll stay to the end?

What will make you give up on a book?

Do you think readers are quicker to give up on a book now than they were twenty years ago?

If you're a writer, do you think you're more inclined to finish a book (knowing all the work that went into writing it) or more inclined to bail (because you read with a more critical eye)?


Groaner of the Day:  Steven Spielberg was discussing his new project - an action docudrama about famous composers starring top movie stars. Sylvester Stallone, Steven Segal, Bruce Willis, and Arnold Schwarzenegger were all present.

Spielberg strongly desired the box office 'oomph' of these superstars, so he was prepared to allow them to select whatever composers they would portray, as long as they were very famous.

"Well," started Stallone, "I've always admired Mozart. I would love to play him."

"Chopin has always been my favorite, and my image would improve if people saw me playing the piano," said Willis. "I'll play him."

"I've always been partial to Strauss and his waltzes," said Segal. "I'd like to play him."

Spielberg was very pleased with these choices. "Sounds splendid." Then, looking at Schwarzenegger, he asked, "Who do you want to be, Arnold?"

Arnold says........
.
.
.
.
(wait for it)
.
.
.
.
(oh, come on, you know what's coming)
.
.
.
.
(okay, here it is)
.
.
.
.
"I'll be Bach."

 
(hee hee hee)

Lighten Up on Flawed Logic?

My monthly book club met tonight.  The book we were discussing was a thriller with an element of time travel.  It was a good book; we all enjoyed it.  But I happened to mention a couple logic flaws in the story and I was told that, because it was sci fi or paranormal or whatever, rules of logic didn't apply.

I have a problem with that.  I've always believed that when an author creates any kind of alternate reality, he/she sets the rules for that reality and then has to write the story to fit inside those rules.  This author didn't.  He violated his own rules several times for plot convenience, with no explanation.

I explained that to the group and was told basically to lighten up.  So there were a few holes in his logic.  What difference did it make? It was still an exciting story.

What difference did it make?  Well, it made a difference to me because a couple hours before the meeting I'd been pounding my head against my desk (ouch!) over a logic issue I'd found in my WIP.  I'd inadvertenlty given my protag an easy source for some information in chapter one that she's not suppose to find until chapter three.   It took me quite a while to come up with a feasible solution and it's going to take re-writing several scenes to fix it.  But why go to the trouble when all these regular mystery readers don't care.  When they all shrugged and asked what difference did it make?

What difference does it make?  As a reader or as a writer, do you think having a few mistakes in logic is okay as long as the story is exciting and fun to read?  How many is too many?  Please weigh in on this one.  I'm really interested.

Favor for a Friend:
Many of you know my buddy, Maria Zannini, is in the running for a  Book Cover Award for The Devil to Pay.  Maria designed the cover herself and it's great.  If you haven't already done so, please take a minute to hop over to this site and give her your vote.  (The voting is on the upper right side of the page.)  I'd really appreciate it.

Personal Note:
I just need to say a couple words here.  Later today I'm going to the memorial service for my daughter in law's mom, Linda Cover.  Linda was a woman of extraordinary courage who faced adversity with style and grace. She was the kind of person the world needs more of and she will be sorely missed.

It seems almost inappropreate to follow that with my usual groaner, but so many of you said you enjoyed Wednesday's and Linda was also a person of laughter so I don't think she'll mind.

Groaner of the Day:
Once upon a time there were two canaries in a cage, one male and one female.

After a few days together, the male decided to meet the female. He scooted over to her side of the cage and said, "Since we're in this together, why don't I move over to your side of the cage!"

The female canary replied, "No, thank you."

The male went back to his side of the cage but after a while decided to try again.  He hopped over to her side of the cage and said, "I am sorry I was so forward before. Why don't we get to know each other first."

To which she replied again, "No, thank you."

Feeling very shot down, he languished about for a bit then made one final effort. "Well, could we at least talk?"

This time she replied, "I'm sorry if I seem mean. But I just learned I have a canarial disease called, "Chirpies" and I'm afraid it's untweetable."

(forgive me)