Giving up
I’m not one to give up on books.
Even with snoozers I try to get to the end, even if it means — like in seventh-grade English with “Watership Down” — skimming the text and not quite absorbing the story.
But, I must admit, I have quit some: books my college literature class didn’t get to by the end of the semester and JRR Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers.”
I read the first trilogy installment, though I was motivated to do so since it was required reading for my 12th-grade novels class.
Tolkien’s extensive descriptions became too much when I tried to read Part Two for fun. I got about 60 pages in.
I’ve since given the book away.
Yeah… know what you mean.
My son was young, and he asked me why I finished a book all the while complaining about how bad it was or predictable or ill-conceived and so on.
I’d tell him this Wisconsinism: “You’ve got to read a few bad books to appreciate the good ones.”
As I’ve gotten older, it’s become harder to finish the bad ones.
Now… about Tolkien… You know you really -REALLY- need to give it more than 60 pages! Try again?
(I say all this with a house full of books but having never read Stephen King novels or any of the Harry Potter series. If you don’t start ‘em, you don’t have to finish ‘em!)