Last night over pizza we pondered the question, "When is the critical point at which you discontinue reading a book that doesn't interest you?" Bookstore Michael said that his cut-off was exactly 100 pages. Kerstein said that she was in the middle of a book that came highly recommended and grabbed her at first, but lately she's been losing interest in it. Michael laughed and said, "The Wind Up Bird Chronicle anyone?" Audrey told us a story of a little girl she was watching on the orange line that managed to navigate herself off the train, around the station, and up the escalator without taking her eyes off the book she was reading. We all agreed that we longed to find something to take us over like that.
I told them that my cut off point is when I quit retrieving the book from the crevice between my bed and the wall when I wake up in the morning. When the effort seems too great, the book isn't worth reading anymore. There are still two books wedged there... abandoned and forgotten. It's one of those things that's funny and sad at the same time.
biggest kiss...
...kristen