I'm usually someone easily pleased with any book. As long as I stick to my favorite genres and I've done a little research on Goodreads, the books I end up reading tend to be decent or good or really good or life-changing good. Still, there are some cases when I read a book and I end up despising it. I've invested my time - hours and hours - in reading and understanding a world of fiction and instead of getting lost in it and feeling entertained I just wanted to turn the pages as fast as I could to get over with it. There have been cases, I'm not going to lie, where I simply could not finish a book. That is a rare moment where I had to give up because my eyes were burning with every word read from a preposterous story.
My best and favorite example of DNF is Fifty Shades of Grey. I remember this story so vividly because it all happened during the time when every single woman on the freaking Iberian Peninsula was reading this book. That includes my mom and my three only aunts. It was summer when they became obsessed with Mr. Grey... They kept discussing how a man could be so hot and sexy and dirty... Yes, I had to listen to those discussions by the pool and I will probably never recover from them. Anyways, I've always loved reading and romance, even though this book is more Erotica and BDSM than romance which I didn't know at the time, so it caught my attention. Summer passed, and I wanted to see what was all the hype behind this book, but of course, my mom would not let me read it because it was not appropriate for a girl my age. I was 15, and being told that something was forbidden made me want to do it even more. My strategy then was to ask my best friend if she could let me borrow it. She said the book was awesome and I needed to read it as soon as possible. I truly thought I would be reading the best story of my entire life at that point. One day at school, she brought it and I carried it in my backpack like it was some counterfeit object and no one could know I had it with me. I felt like a badass ignoring my mom's order, and that afternoon I started reading it in my room with the adrenaline of thinking I might get caught. What a huge incredible disappointment. I was maybe in chapter 2 when I could not continue reading it. The writing was bad, cheesy and so boring. What I thought could be an exciting read after the process of getting the book in my hands, turned to be the biggest disappointment to date of a book that I could not stand after maybe 10 minutes reading it. The next day I gave it back to my best friend, and that was the end of my secret book adventure.
I'm reminiscing this story because this morning I finished a book that I didn't like at all. It wasn't as bad as Fifty, but it was bad nonetheless. I guess I'm just mad and nostalgic and feeling the bad taste that book left in me, but anyways, I'm writing this post because the feeling of reading a book that sucks is in my top 5 of worst feelings in the world, and when it happens it usually stays with me for a while.
No comments:
Post a Comment