I used to dutifully chew and swallow bad writing like All-Bran. Once the commitment to read a book was made, I rarely waivered. It took a friend to point out that IF I managed to read 50 books a year – and I’m not doing that at present – then I only had about 3000 books remaining in an average life span. I went into an utter panic. My current “to read” list on Goodreads stands at 40 books. There are seven in-progress books in the bedroom and a whole cupboard of non-fic ones relating to my going-on-ten-years novel in my office, begging to be read.
So I’m sorry. These days, if you don’t get me in 50 pages, I’m gone. Sorry Zadie Smith, apologies Tim Winton and Peter Carey. All authors are subject to this rule, but not written off for future books.
Unless your paying me to read it. Then I’ll read any old shit.