I have been plowing through so many books that I am startled when I find a book I do not intend to finish. After all, I have some extra leisure time, so how else will I use it?
Now, some books just must be postponed — such as Ahab's Wife, which Carole reviewed. No matter how absorbing a tale, the voluminous tome was too much for me in my compromised state this summer. Stephanie Plum was more my speed, and I soared through four of those novels without as much as a hiccup.
Then, while waiting for a book from the library, I chose an earlier novel by the same writer to see if I might like her work.
And I had to put it down because it reminded me of the worst parts of my own job.
In Blind Submission: a novel, Angel takes a new job at a book agent's office. In the first paragraph she ponders leaving the office before she even sits down at her (very overburdened) desk, but by the end of the prologue, she accepts the challenge.
As the book progressed, all I could think of was when my job made me feel that way. I couldn't separate myself from the narrator.
Now, don't get me wrong — I love what I do. It's just that some days I wonder if I'm coming back in the morning. You know those days. You've had them, too.
Frankly, the book is good. Ginsberg quickly paints an intriguing picture, and I harbor a few suspicions about Angel's boss. Don't even get me started on Angel's co-workers, and if Angel as an administrative assistant should be working as an editor and reader — is she being properly compensated?
The more I write about Blind Submission, the more inclined I am to hobble upstairs and pick it up again. If I'm this passionate about a book when I'm a few dozen pages into it, then it has hooked me.
Well, I won't decide just yet. If I miss Angel, I know where to find her.