When books bite, it is easy to see them through to the last page. Some books find it easy to latch on to a reader’s imagination or interest. Others do not quite sink their teeth in so quickly, or so deeply, so it is easy to shake them off; it normally happens in the opening third. When it does happen, I put them down.
A book can be closed to me for quite some time, years, before I return to it. Novels don’t always match their readers, but often that is because the reader is not at the right stage of life, or place in their lives. At some point, after I have left a book unread for so long, I pick it off the bookcase again, flick through its pages, read the blurb, and wonder what it was that made me put it down in the first place. I then read it all the way through.
I have been reading some books this year that have not grabbed me. A few have been histories that have just taken some application. It has been a case of reading a chapter at a time, methodically. Others, like the one I have just finished, did not have the pace, the characters were not credible and my interest was never truly gained. Nevertheless, I stuck to it; a purple heart should be coming my way.
Novels take a long time to write so maybe they deserve to be read.