drift here but does anyone else have my affliction... If I start a book, and am not in to it I continue reading becaues I somehow think the author is probably clever or at least more than me and eventually he will pull it all together in some Dickensian way and I will finally appreciate it. In fact, many times I feel used at the end and determine that it is a piece of crap and I was right all along. But then I do it over. Am I the only one who does not trust their own literary judgment?