One side effect of having a crap week / few weeks and having a really bad few weeks of sleep patterns (or lack thereof) is a reduction in the amount of reading I'm doing.
Currently I'm really struggling with Mobius Dick. I keep going to bed exhausted, picking it up, reading a bit, falling asleep and then picking it up the next night and finding I can't remember what's been going on so I have to extensively backtrack.
This means I'm not sure whether I'm not really enjoying it because I'm reading it badly or because it's actually not that enjoyable.
Which has gotten me to thinking about the way I refuse to give up on a book. No matter what it is I will always finish it. Now usually this isn't a problem as my reading tastes are pretty wide and I enjoy a diverse range of stuff. I also select books pretty well so that it is very rare to pick up a turkey.
I may be wrong on this as it depends on my memory, which as some may know is crap. But I honestly think I've only ever given up on 2 books.
Thomas Pynchon - Vineland. Just dull. But one of those books I've always thought should have been great.
Stephen Fry - The Liar. I had high hopes for Stephen Fry, but his writing doesn't match up to hearing him talk. Shame
And that's it. 2 books in all these years.
Not bad, but obviously I don't want to make it 3, so tonight I'm actually off to bed early to read!