Recently I have had a little run of bad novel reading. Two of those books I read almost all the way through-- one sort-of sci fi and the other a 90s noir (which was just as awkward as that sounds). Both suffered from wooden dialogue and too much time inside uninteresting characters' heads. Why do I waste my time on these things when I have a million other books at my disposal, some just steps away in my cluttered bookshelves or in one of the numerous piles on the floor?
I used to think I could only have an opinion on a book if I read it all the way through. In the imaginary cocktail party of my collegiate nightmares, not only am I naked, I am out-litted too. Now that I realize that most cocktail parties require only a black dress and good balance, it is still somehow hard for me to give up on a book, no matter how wretched it is.
These books certainly helped me continue to get over that ridiculousness.
Luckily, because of MoCCA, I have been reading incredibly great comics. I rarely write about single issues here. Should I?
On top of that, a trip to a small bookstore on Court St. in Brooklyn netted three books that should be good reads, all for under $10.