Yesterday, I saw a good customer of mine picking up a Sherrilyn Kenyon book. Aghast, I implored her to put that horrid author’s book down. She couldn’t, she said. She’d read all the other books in the series.
It got me thinking. Should we have some sense of obligation to buy an author’s book just because we’re three or more into the series? You’ll get a firm ‘no’ from me.
For example, I stopped Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time series at about book 6 (I think… can’t remember, not picking them up again to check). I couldn’t stand the mundane things being described in painstaking detail. Does the color of her dress and how she puts it on relevant to the story? Nope! Don’t put it in! My time is valuable and I don’t go for endless descriptions of the texture of the porridge the character’s eating or what happened in the previous books being laid out in several pages.
Terry Goodkind’s Richard Rahl series kept me to the last book because I always give the author one more chance. His last chance was the last book. Lucky him. The happy ending he’d drawn up was vomit-worthy. It’s almost like he saw the death of Robert Jordan, took stock of his own health, and quickly threw something together to avoid having someone else sift through his notes to finish his work.
Now there’s always going to be someone out there that thinks the authors I poke at write all golden jewels. I prefer to keep the rose-colored glasses off when reading. I can enjoy a good story and I’m not looking for perfect grammar. I just want the story to have substance and characters that are believable in the world they’re thrust in. I know, too much to ask for half the time.
That customer did have redeeming qualities, however. She’s into my favorite smut book author (Connie Mason) and thinks the Twilight books, while niche for the target audience, are poorly written. I’ll take that and overlook the money she wasted on that book in her hand.