When to quit...

Very rarely do I start a book and not be compelled to finish. I do a fair bit of research when looking for a new book to read and I know what genres I like and don't like. I picked The Third Child by Marge Piercy out of a bunch of beach reading from a friend. I have read and enjoyed some of Piercy's poetry in the past. This book, however, is abysmal.

When I picked up this book I had no idea it was Piercy's 16th novel. I don't know if she's running out of things to write about or what, but I didn't get half-way through it before happily setting it aside. Have you ever written a book that made you think to yourself, "Hey, I can write better than this!" Well, I'm no novelist but I began to think that I had written prose like this in junior high.

Piercy describes people in such a way that you know she wants it to be subtle, but it's not. Perhaps the book bothers me so much because it's about privileged college students. Maybe it's because the book doesn't really depict college as I know it to be. Maybe because the main character, Melissa, is such a whiney little brat.

I just don't buy this story. The dialogue is weird and the characters aren't all that interesting to me. The relationships seem unrealistic. There's nothing original about the writing. I gave up.