Every so often, it happens. You pick up the latest book by a well-loved author, eager to lose yourself in its well-known characters, and clever plot structures. However, as you continue to read, you realize something bad. You realize something is wrong here, but you’re afraid to admit it yourself. Maybe you put the book down, thinking it’s you, not them. You’re too tired, too distracted… but no. Sadly, you have to admit what’s real, and accept it.
The writing is bad, and the book sucks.
This is what happened to me last night, while reading the latest Laura Childs that I found in the library, “The Silver Needle Murder”
The tea has been overbrewed, my friends... drain the cups and move on.
