Dear Liar's Poker,
It's over between us. We've spent a good long time together since you came to me from the library's hold shelf. Almost three weeks. And yet, I don't feel that I've gotten very far with you. I'm only on page 70, and, honestly, I'm not getting as much from you as I was hoping. Spending time with you is mildly interesting. But staying together feels like too much work.
I'm saddened by this, of course. After how much I loved The Blind Side I hoped you would charm, intrigue, and instruct me the same way. I hoped I would find an introduction to the world of stock jocks and bond traders as fascinating as I found football history. But, alas not. Maybe it's because reading about the booming 1980s is depressing now that the market has tanked. I'm not having that much fun reading about a trading floor where the phrase "big swinging dick" is a term of exalted praise. Maybe I'm making a mistake looking for an emotional connection of some kind, instead of just mild anthropological interest. The spark just isn't there.
I understand that it's not you, it's me. Maybe it's just bad timing. Maybe somewhere down the line, we'll meet again and have a whirlwind romance of pages turning, impossible to put down.
But right now? It's just not working. So we'll be parting ways. Hopefully, when you go back to the library, you'll find someone who can love to spend time with you.
Sincerely,
Me.
HA - I'm so feeling this! I have had to write many a Dear John letter to books that simply did not work for me. My personal rule of thumb: if it doesn't grab me or make sense within the first 50 pages, then it is not the book for me.
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