Reading and being disappointed

Paul Sunstone picks this for Pay It Forward Thursday at the GDG

Gristle Mill

Hello! This is Alice! Recently, I’ve waded through Emma Bull’s Territory and I’m now knee-deep in Martha Wells’s The Death of the Necromancer.

Imma be frank. Territory felt choked-up and inconsequential. The Death of the Necromancer is just bad. They have their merits (the former more so than the latter), but my foremost feeling is being deeply disappointed. Shucks, these stories coulda been good! Why’d they have to be ruined so?

Actually, I’m disappointed in pretty much every book I read. Even the ones I’m wildly ecstatic about, like The Knight. (Seriously, why the fuck is every damn woman hot on Able?)

Yes, every book I’ve ever read usually contained something I’m not happy about. I’ve been mad, I’ve been sad, I’ve raged, frothed, sighed, groaned, complained, and, in various degrees, been disappointed. And you know what, guys? That’s bloody good.

Why? Well, because I’m a writer. I became a…

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