There’s a certain kiss of death for me as a reader when I hit a point in the book that makes me STOP.
I’m not talking historical inaccuracies (not sure I’d pick one up unless it was blatant) or poor writing (although definitely that’s a show stopper for me, I typically figure out the author’s style isn’t for me very early). It’s something much more insiduous.
I’m reading a book right now that I started on the plane home. I was enjoying it, although it wasn’t as emotional as The Duke of Shadows (which is totally okay–I don’t want every story to be a tear-jerker). The book is different and exciting. It had quite a lot of buzz. I enjoyed the new-to-me author’s style.
Until a certain choice the protagonist made.
I was surprised. I had this expectation built up within me that this book was different. It wouldn’t fall into the same old genre traps. And so when it DID, I was stunned. My expectation was utterly dashed, and now I’m finding it difficult to get back into the story. I still like the characters, the world, the style, but it’s just not the same.
I guess I lost my rose-colored glasses. Or…maybe I was forced to put them back on.
I hate rose-colored glasses. I really do.