On giving up

Do you ever give up on a book? I do. All the time. And this research seems to attribute that to some cocktail of genetics and social scripting because I have an outie instead of an innie. I guess. Mostly I give up on books because: 1) they are impenetrable and alienating (Finnegan’s Wake — my record is like page 32 or something), 2) I find them offensive for some reason, but not in a way that compels me to read more (Joseph Boyden’s The Orenda), 3) they are poorly written and/or facile (50 Shades of Grey — which also might overlap with this next one), 4) they bore the ever-loving fuck out of me (insert 95% of books here), and 5) (especially lately) I am aware I have less time ahead than behind and I am not going to spend what remains on anything that doesn’t zap my soul like a fork stuck in an electrical outlet. Simple, and not at all related to my balls.

Women persevere, men give up and literary fiction is kept for the weekend.

A pioneering attempt by publishers to rival Amazon’s knowledge of its ebook readers has proved what half the population already knew — men give up before page 50 while women keep going to page 100.

It also showed that only 5 per cent of ebooks are finished by more than 75 per cent of readers.

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