jethrien

There are very few books that I've begun but not finished. It's something I've taken kind of an obscure pride in. The fact that I read incredibly fast does make me willing to sink time into mediocre or bad books, since it's not as much of an investment as it might be for someone else.

Still, time is something I have in short supply these days, even if I am burning through books like a fiend. And so I think I'm going to abandon the one I just started. It's historical fiction, about Emperor Frederick II of the Holy Roman Empire. In the first chapter, we've bounced through a decade of disjointed scenes. It's just all one gigantic prologue, and I'm realizing that I've been waiting for the actual book to start and I don't think it's going to. It's just one awkward info dump after another. And I'm realizing that the only reason I have to look forward to reading the rest is to write a scathing review at the end. But it's not even that terrible, it's just not good. And you know what? Spite is kind of a lousy reason to waste your time on something. So I think I'm done now.

In other news, I have high hopes for the nectarine/raspberry/strawberry sorbet I just put in the freezer. The base tastes amazing. I love summer fruit.