Yesterday afternoon I actually, truly, in person, threw a paperback across the room at the wall.
I hate being a cliché, but there was nothing else to be done.
Fortunately I was alone when the book went flying.
It was so Dreckky that I actually had to flip through the pages to make sure that I had not missed any good bits.
Nope. It was completely Dreck. From first to last page.
And there lies the rub of course.
The author who spent months of her life writing the words, the editor who bought it, the publisher and cover artist and marketing etc etc did not think it was Dreck.
And they certainly could not have expected their readers to think it was Dreck.
Is it just me? As a reader?
As a writer – I know that what I should do now, of course, is to analyse PRECISELY why it was Dreck.
What was so wrong with it that I had to force myself to scan read the last third?
Maybe I should try to rewrite, say, the first scene, as a writing exercise, so that I can use the precious time I spent trying to read the [thing which was not worthy of being called fiction] as a learning opportunity?
But I already know the answer.
The Premise, the ‘Story Idea’ which started off the story, and brought the hero to the heroine’s door, was not believable. Or even plausible. I did not, could not, believe the reason why the couple got together.
And that pulled me out of the story, away from any sympathy or empathy with the characters, and, frankly, I was bored. And there are plenty of others in my TBR pile.
If I ever have any doubt about how important that intial set-up is, I know better now.
Another reader may love that storyline, and the characters. I hope they do. Because my copy is now headed to the charity shop.