Well, it's happening - I am very quickly getting turned off The Lovely Bones. I was killing time reading it yesterday before meeting a friend for tea when I realized I would really rather be reading a nice fat Victorian novel; I've just been deprived of Victorian lit for too long.
I went to Seekers, one of the best used bookstores around (in part because of the crazy people that hang out there) ,and picked up Wilkie Collins' The Woman in White. I almost got Dickens' Dombey and Son instead to take with me on my trip; but in the end, I balked at buying a book (even for $4.50) that I already have at home. (We have a complete set of Dickens inherited from my hubby's grandmother which I can't really take overseas, but I promised myself I'd read it as soon as I returned.)
My disillusion with The Lovely Bones increased after I got home last night and read some more; I was reminded again that there's only so much sentimentality I can handle. I may just be getting sick of the story, but I wonder if Sebold's writing isn't losing the energy it had at the beginning of the book. In any case, I'm now looking forward to it being over so I can move on to Collins...
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