Anyone who knows me knows I love to read. My parents say I was reading before the age of five. Now, I don’t know if that’s true, but I do know that Dr. Seuss is embedded in my earliest memories. Me holding a book. Reading. Transported by the words to a part of me that felt connected on a level I didn’t understand then. But, even then, one of my most favorite feelings in the world was holding a book in my hands, the scent of the print and paper filling my imagination before I even turned a page.

I can say, for me, nothing has changed. I have tried the e-book scene. I have a Nook and a Kindle. I have tried to embrace the convenience, the instant gratification of not having to wait for a book in the mail, or going to the library. But it’s just not the same. I need to feel the weight of a book in my hands. I need to turn the pages. Otherwise it loses something for me. It just doesn’t feel right.

Almost as important is that the book have a good story. Take my latest read, for example. “Amber” by Kathleen Winsor. An historical novel set in London in the mid-1600’s. I happen to love historical novels. And this one was very well written. The story is woven through the rule of Charles II, including the time of the Great Plague and the fire that almost destroyed London. The jacket promises, via Barbara Taylor Bradford,  “compulsive reading…a genuine page turner”. And it was, like a lot of historical novels, almost 1,000 pages. I couldn’t wait to read it.

The title character is a young woman with ambitions way beyond her station in life, still she manages to make quite a life for herself. I was torn between liking her and hating her. Selfish, driven, narcissistic, she climbed her way to a position of wealth and power by using anybody and everybody who got in her way. Brash and bold and determined. A strong woman. I like a character like that, in this setting, in this style. I rooted for her and then hoped she’d fail. The story and the writing drew me in and I really found it was a “page-turner”.

Unfortunately the ending was awful. Just awful. 972 pages leading up to what felt like a quick and easy ending, without any thought or ambition. Just a way to end the book.  I was so disappointed. I put the book down and could have screamed. I was so mad. How do you write 972 pages, build up to a climax that could have gone many ways, and pick out the least appealing way to end a great story? I don’t know.  I’ve never written a book, but I know I would have definitely written a different ending.

Now I am looking for my next book. Any suggestions?