Thursday 16 April 2009

Arise my Book Blog

You may have noticed that this blog has lain dormant for quite a while. Mainly this is because I no longer had the mental energy to devote to capsule reviews of books. I was still reading, but not blogging. Of course, the fact that I was still reading (am still reading) Robert Caro's "The Power Broker" didn't help. Sucker is 1,500 pages long. Try reading that in the bath.

Well, I want to blog again, but I can't do the numerical challenge again. While it works well as a goal, the thrill wears off once you've actually done it, and it's not as if you can tell anyone about it once you're finished. Can you really announce "I read 50 books a year!" as a part of normal conversation? What's the answer to that? I mean, the books could be anything (see my previous reading list). It sounds as if you're begging for a gold star, or maybe a shiny button and 10 Personal Pan Pizzas.

So I've decided to modify the challenge. I'm going to read 50 awful books instead. That way, I'll be spared having to improve my writing skills, as it is always easier to write about something dreadful than something decent, and whoever's reading this will be spared having to read capsule reviews of classic novels that read along the lines of "wow, this book is good." Perhaps this is not the best way to challenge myself. But I do not care.

If anyone is still reading and has any suggestions for awful books for me to read, feel free to comment.

3 comments:

Admiral Neck said...

James Patterson. Anything by him, including the ones not really written by him. He's the second worst writer in the world. The worst, of course, is Jeffery "Lord Arch-hole" Archer. Stephenie Meyer is probably third.

Oh, what about Alastair Campbell's diary? "Oh teh noes, the depression made me ruin England!"

I feel like I'm sending you to your death. Forgive me.

sleepy-bird said...

I actually read part of Alastair Campbell's diaries. I was in an airport and feeling really upset and teary so I decided to distract myself by browsing the airport bookstore. The first book I picked up was a novel about a mother's attempt to reconnect with her estranged daughters after she finds out she has terminal cancer. I put it down and picked up Alastair Campbell's diaries because I thought that nothing in there could provoke any emotion other than rage, but I opened the book up to a part about Peter Mandelson crying because he had done something wrong and had to quit his job in shame and live in his mother's mansion or something and I was all like NOOOOO, HE LOST HIS HOUSE! THIS IS TERRIBLE! I was tearing up like I was reading the end of "Where the Red Fern Grows." It was awful.

That was the saddest day.

K. said...

Here is some stuff to get you started:
- TWILIGHT
- anything else by her