Time was...

...when I considered that if I had started reading a book, I should finish it. It was almost as if it were a duty. This may have stemmed from studying English literature at school when set books had to be read time after time so that one could refer to certain passages or even quote extensively when answering exam questions. It was years before I decided that life was just too short for that nonsense and that if, after the first couple of chapters - say 50 pages or so - I was not enjoying whatever book I was reading, the time had come to put it to one side. After all, I read for pleasure, not out of duty, so why punish myself?

This all comes about because I have given up on two books in the last ten days, which is actually quite unusual for me. But now I am well into (and enjoying) The Edge of Madness by Michael Dobbs.