Slam -- Nick Hornby

I am a failure.

I started this book over a month ago—a month ago!—and I am only now giving myself permission to give up.

I kept trying to get through it because everyone and their mom has seemed to really like it. I kept trying to get through it because I've liked a lot of Hornby's adult novels and because I was actually* looking forward to this one—he seemed like a good fit for the YA crowd.

But it's just not happening. Sam—and the rest of the people in the book—they're not people. They're just characters.  I don't believe in them**. Therefore, I don't care about them. Therefore, the book isn't holding my interest whatsoever, and, I'm finding it, in a word, boring.

So, here I am. One lone dissenting voice in a sea of Slam-lovers.

Whatever. I'm okay with that. As long as I don't have to read one more page.

_______________________________________

*I say 'actually' because it's unusual—I'm usually very suspicious of grown-up authors suddenly up and writing YA.

**And it's not the time travel. If I can read fantasy novels—like the one I talked about yesterday—and believe wholeheartedly in them, then a little time travel isn't going to trip me up.