I had a post ready for today, but I liked this suggestion from Chris even better, so … thanks, Chris!
Here’s something for Valentine’s Day.
Have you ever fallen out of love with a favorite author? Was the last book you read by the author so bad, you broke up with them and haven’t read their work since? Could they ever lure you back?
Don’t forget to leave a link to your actual response (so people don’t have to go searching for it) in the comments—or if you prefer, leave your answers in the comments themselves!
Hey, that's me! Thanks Deb for using my question.
Back in high school, my first love was Stephen King. He was the bad boy who smoked, swore and wore a leather jacket. I spent many a late night with him, but like a lot of high school romances that start out hot and heavy, it couldn't last. I outgrew Steve while he stayed the same. I wouldn't mind a fling once in awhile now though. Maybe Duma Key?Next was Mary Higgins Clark that chatty girl in the cafeteria. I ate up her stories until she started telling me the same ones over and over. I started taking my tray elsewhere.
Finally, I went goth with Anne Rice. Anne, poor misunderstood Anne, hiding in the dark areas of the library picking the black nail polish from her fingers. She opened me up to a whole new type of book: serious, thoughtful and just the right amount of weird. However, as time went on, she started doing odd things, like writing books about minor characters in her better stories and bragging that she didn't need a editor. I stopped reading after Blackwood Farm. Then I heard she had written a long winded response to a bad review on Amazon, kind of like girls who have too much wine and email their exes. I wonder if she regretted that?