Rarely do I find a book I am unable to read cover to cover. Oh, there have been a few off the top of my head, Davinci Code being one (I can hear the collective gasp right now). Usually I fight through to the end but do not consider it a waste of time for every book has it's finer points.

By the time I get through to the middle of a novel I may find it likeable or I may love it. Jose Saramagio's Blindness was difficult to read at the beginning due to his writing style and I almost gave up on it. Had I given up, I would have never found my favorite book of all time! A perfect example of a fight well worth having.

The books I despise are few and far between, easily forgotten in fact. I am not opposed to Chick Lit. These familiar books are easy to read while traveling and your seat is being punched, someone is snoring in your ear or when your mind can't help but to wander. Once I read The Devil Wears Prada by Lauren Weisberger, I essentially gave up on this genre. The book was horribly written and even worse was the editing. Storylines were dropped, spelling and grammar was off. It was terrible to the point I considered writing the publisher for a refund. "What was the world coming to?", I thought. After reading the book reviews on Amazon, I felt much better. Since then I haven't picked up a book that's premise is brand name clothing. How boring.

The Devil Wears Prada is still number one on my Most Hated List, but at a close second is A Million Little Pieces by James Frey. This is the book that flew to the number one spot for several weeks thanks to Oprah's Book Club, only to find out later thanks to The Smoking Gun that much of the book was false. All hell broke loose for James in the form of Oprah Winfrey and Larry King. Things seem to have quieted down.

I received the book during the holidays before the author was outed. Because I hadn't read the book yet, I hadn't formed an opinion and to be honest I wasn't all that interested anyway, but one couldn't help but know about the drama unfolding. It took me three weeks to get through his book and it was not a labor of love. People apparently liked it a lot, so I held on hoping for a turning point along the way.

The book is 300 plus pages and is written as though it were a diary, a poorly written diary. He repeats sentences over and over to the point the reader thinks she might have dejavu. James is a highly unlikeable fellow. I hoped that by the middle of the book he might turn it around or maybe I would grow to at least appreciate him, but when he decided to try to kill himself, let's just say I wasn't opposed to that idea. He had a nice family, a family that many people would love to have, who were supportive both emotionally and financially. He didn't give them enough credit.

I have never been through rehab nor have I had reason to go. Perhaps I am not understanding what James went through. As for the embellishments, I don't think it's as big of a deal as people have made it out to be. Sure, he should have written a disclaimer, "This book is based on a true story", otherwise the book didn't seem too far from the truth unless a person elected to rip it apart and in that case, most books based on truth would likely crumble.

It's been some time since I've read a truly great book. Alas, a stack of at least 30 books awaits me as purchasing them and receiving them as gifts ranks right behind reading them. A daunting task but someone's got to do it.

Kate