Maybe I'm a lazy reader/movie watcher, but sometimes I just have to give up on a story. That happened twice this weekend.
Example 1: Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Someone wants to kill me for saying that. I know. I have read so many favorable reviews of this book, but it was not doing it for me. I trudged through it until I was 1/3 of the way through, but it never grabbed me.
The premise of the story is that a girl and guy fall in love, but the girl decides to marry a wealthy guy instead of the guy she originally fell in love with. Fifty some-odd years later, the lady's husband dies and her original love interest hears about it and swoops in to declare his love for her and how he never stopped loving her for a single day that they were apart.
Is that romantic to someone? Because dude is a stalker. And stalkers just aren't romantic to me. I didn't even mention the fact that the way their whole romance started was that guy #1 saw her out and about and became obsessed with her (my own words)...started figuring out a pattern of where she would be and started showing up there every day so he could observe her--this went on for months before he ever said the first word to her.
Creepy, not romantic.
Maybe the book gets better later on, but I'll never know. If an author can spend a full 1/3 of a book making me feel like I've wasted my time reading it, I don't feel bad about putting the book down unfinished.
What's your giving up point? Do you read the first chapter? First 100 pages? Do you feel obligated to finish every book you start?
I like Will Ferrel for the most part, but I didn't make it past the first 35 minutes of this movie. Nothing happens...except lots of cussing and some naked boobs. All in the first little bit of the movie. I can't imagine what I would have had to look forward to. It just wasn't uproariously funny like the back of the DVD case promised.