I’ve always been fascinated by this concept. Some books, which aren’t even all that bad, get forgotten or ignored and you never finish them. And I’ve been known to throw down a book with stilted dialogue on page 2 and never go near that author again.
But some books, which I’ve loathed I’ve kept on reading. Some I may have had a grudging respect for, but others I knew were bad and just forced my way on through.
And I’ve just finished one that was really and truly atrocious. I’ll post more about it later – maybe around Halloween – but I won’t keep you in suspense.
Bram Stoker’s Lair of the White Worm.
Sure I knew it had been turned into one of the worst movies ever made, but the original text couldn’t be that bad, could it? Yes, yes, it could be.