When I am not sure what to do next or I am overwhelmed, I tend to lose myself in a book or several.  I would love to say that my literature of choice is mind expanding, educational, inspirational or the like, but it is not.  I read popular fiction.  It is my drug of choice.

I have no patience for crappy writing (typos, grammatical errors, spelling errors, and bad editing can be aggravating but usually not enough for me to stop reading), characters that are too stupid to live or too insecure to function, and there is only so much belief I can suspend before I will shut a book never to return.  I do not want to be terrified, horrified, or grossed out.  If the book starts with heaving chests, wind swept hair, or mesmerizing anything, I will not go past the first page.  That still leaves a lot possibility.

As of last count, I have nine books on the go and am about to start my tenth.  I have reached the point in all the books where the plot takes a nose dive so that the rest of the story is moving towards the resolution.  Up until that point, I happily read along, learning about the characters, the space in which they exist, their relationships.  Things will be going along merrily, then I will realize that I am only half way through the book.  Any page now I will reach the (da da dum) conflict.  Occasionally I will give up on a book at this time if any of the previously mentioned intolerances have occurred.  Lately, it has been at this point in the plot that I find I have to put the book down.  I don’t necessarily want to give up on the book, for whatever redeeming qualities it possesses, I just want to put the conflict on hold.  Maybe I should explore another genre, then I wouldn’t be able to anticipate the structure and could complete a book without an extended pause.