Happy Wednesday! I’m sticking with this alliterative-days-blog-thing. I thrive on a schedule. Anyways…
I’m currently reading My Not So Perfect Life by Sophie Kinsella. (Yes, I’m STILL trying to get through 1984. Lord, help me.) Sophie Kinsella is one of my favorite authors, and she writes the books I always saw myself writing. We have a similar style, which I feel odd saying. I mean, she’s a best selling author. And I’m…well, I’m typing a blog post no one will read.
But I digress.
This post was inspired by both #authorconfession, a Twitter hashtag game, and another of my favorite VlogBrothers videos. Let’s talk about what annoys us when it comes to books.
Here’s Hank Green ranting about books. It’s awesome and oh-so-relatable.
Books can be annoying, can’t they? But unlike Hank, I’d rather complain about the content, not the appearance.
Other than the obvious gripes about a book (it’s boring, too long, too many characters, wooden dialogue, just plain lame), I haven’t been satisfied with a book’s ending lately.