I started out the year reading a whole bunch and then this month I’ve not been reading that much. In fact, only one book in the last couple of weeks. Finished it today. I didn’t really like it–it wasn’t particularly well-written and there was a lot of info-dumping, the villains were cardboard and rather silly, and the romance was, for lack of a better word, stupid. And by that, I mean that there’s an epidemic that’s killing millions of people, and the doctors from the CDC who are desperately trying to figure out what’s going on, two of the them are making happy cheerful flirties and then perky sex while being hunted down and you can see why this is stupid. I mean, people can fall in love in desperate situations and they do–I mean, they might die–but they aren’t going to be all happy and flirty and smiley and winky. Oh, and one of the doctors kept making muffins and cookies at the drop of a hat. In the jungle. With MILLIONS of people dying.
You might wonder why I kept reading. Basically I wanted to see how the story finally pulled together or if it fell flat. Some of the elements were done decently well. Others . . . yeah, no. But here’s the thing I discovered–even though I could have just not finished it, I felt compelled to. And yet I didn’t want to read it, so I didn’t read at all. Then I decided I should try something else, so I’m reading Stealing the Elf King’s Roses, which is fun, but I misplaced the book and sigh.
And now I’m having constant acid reflux. Which is not typical for me. I do not know if this if because I’m sick (and I have had some symptoms in that direction), or if I’ve suddenly developed it. As it is, Tums isn’t doing the trick so I need to pick up something else. I cannot stand this feeling of having something stuck in my throat. Blech.