We're all friends here, right? Because I'm about to confess something...I think there's something wrong with me. I have an odd compulsion to know how the story ends. I've already complained about reading Wicked. I told the person that I gave the book to that I didn't want to see it back again. And I meant it. But then I needed something to read...and there it was, sitting there on the shelf...taunting me with more story. So I bought it. And I'm slowly, slowly reading it. I wouldn't say that anyone should read this one either but I have found the perfect quote to sum up the feeling of Wicked in the second book.
The Scarecrow (straw man) and Liir (maybe son of the dead Wicked Witch of the West) are in the slums of the Emerald City and the graffiti on the wall says...
Happy endings are still endings.
On the surface, simple. But if you think about it...deep and depressing. And yet I keep reading.
Yesterday I told Pat that I want what other people have (like cute little computers that fit in your purse) but I think this inability to let a bad story go might be a bigger problem. I'll try to work through it this weekend so that I can put this book down...because there's another one out there lurking.
1 comment:
Hi Cheryl,
You are not alone!
The last book I sank my teeth into had no meat. 240 pages in and I was still waiting for something to happen. It was all character building and scene-setting. I gave up. The book won. I should have skipped to the end to see if the rest was worth suffering through!
Joan
Post a Comment