Friday, January 09, 2004

I had felt the need for a divertissement.

I remember an English teacher in high school, who once said that "Reading is kind of like sex. Most of the time you want the serious, good stuff--relationships, or great books. But there are times when you just need to get laid, and times when you just need to read pulp."

My mom & sister are big fans of Patricia Cornwell. So Blow Fly is home from the library at the moment. I read it. It was awful. The plot was razor thin and lacked any and all cohesion. Not a mere moment seemed plausible. The characters seemed unrealistic and annoying. Why can't half-decent, popular authors learn when to call it quits? Isn't there a point at which an X amount of money is sufficient?

I mean, really. I need some better pulp.