Ah, the DNF. In case you’re not a massive book nerd who spends too much time on the internet, DNF stands for Did Not Finish. **Some** people have this insane compulsion to read a book all the way to the end, even if every moment is the purest form of agony. I, however, prefer other forms of masochism, and if a book doesn’t grab me by the time I’ve read a third of it then it’s out the window.
Unfortunately, I have had to defenestrate far too many books lately. And because I am all about that Good Content, have a list of the stuff I hated recently.
First up, The Cabin at the End of the Woods.
Read almost half of this, despite knowing by the third chapter I wouldn’t like it. Oddly slow, despite opening with a home invasion and hints of a looming apocalyptic catastrophe. Annoying kid. Yuppie parents. Villains who maybe aren’t villains. Skipped to the end – no resolution. One of those maybe-maybe-not endings. Hated it.
Next, Séance Infernale.
So bad. Suffered through two chapters. This book has no idea what it is. Reminded me of that Polanski (ugh) film with the rare book dealer played by Johnny Depp (ugh). The Ninth Gate. Could have been so good. Was most definitely not good. Hated it.
Last, The Favorite Sister.
So much hype. I actually enjoyed the first part of this book, and out of all three of my recent DNFs, this is the only one I might give another chance to. It was just moving too slowly for me, and frankly, there were so many awful characters competing to see who could be the worst that I just had to put it aside and read about elves for a little bit, you know what I mean? Also, so many characters and points of views. It was like a fucking West Coast War and Peace. My kingdom for a cast of characters. Hated it (kinda).
Other things I have hated recently:
- the sun
- heat
- humidity
- summer in general
- library patrons who insist on standing at the circ desk until you check in the items they just returned
- the 401
- people who drive on the 401
- Doug Ford
- high-waisted jeans that aren’t high-waisted enough
- those single fucking eyebrow hairs that insist on growing in the wrong fucking direction, like sis, what is wrong with you, follow the fucking curve ffs
- the last fifteen minutes before your shift ends
- the 18.4 km distance from Pickering to Whitby, and the emotional distress it both symbolizes and causes
- gluten free “”bread”
- treachery
Wow. That was really… cathartic. Damn, guys. You should try this….
– xo, R
The Reading Robyn 