So many left undone

As I age, I am more and more prone to giving up on a book if it doesn't work by page 50 (200 in fantasy novels.) While I may be missing some gems, I think I my net book enjoyment per year is higher. Here are some that were voted out of the book queue this year.

Saturday by Ian McEwan. I quite like McEwan, so I was sad to find this one unengaging. It just felt so limp compared to some of his other works. In order to atone for this, I've just ordered his Cold War spy book, the Innocent.

Tripwire by Lee Child. A non-thrilling thriller. So sad. I'm not ready to give up on Child and will still read Running Blind.

Scribbling the Cat - Alexandra Fuller. The writing is evocative. I felt as if I was standing in Africa myself, but I didn't feel that compelled to continue. I admit, I read so many reviews of this one that I got the gist of the story and didn't care to read much more. I think I'll read Don't Lets Go to the Dogs Tonight instead.

Ice - Vladimir Sorokin. This one sounded interesting. Someone is kidnapping blue eyes blond Russians and whacking them in the chest with axes made of ice. Those that survive are congratulated and told they are now awake. It may speak more to Russian audiences (the awoken include a prostitute, mobster and a drug addled youth - the new Russians?) I found the prose so spare as to be empty. Not even the promise of a tie-in to Tunguska kept me going here.

I am willing to listen to reasons why I should have continued.