You’d think that me thinking it’s terrible would be enough for me to stop reading it.
It was a bestseller of something, so it must be me who’s not getting it.
I’ve already recommended it to my friends, acting like I have read it, because I thought it was gonna be good.
It was written by a scientist and I want to prove my 7th grade lab teacher wrong.
It’s a classic.
It’s paperback and much lighter to carry around in my bag than the books that I actually want to read. It also has larger fonts.
It’s the only book I bought at my local bookstore this year, and I don’t want to let Amazon win.
My crush likes this book, and we have nothing in common as of yet.
I don’t want to admit that I bought it solely because I liked the cover. I think there’s a saying for people like that. I can’t remember the saying but I know it’s not a compliment.
The author obviously dug a hole for himself, and that becomes its own fun thing to watch.
I’m running low on my Books of the Month blog and it’s already the 30th. I’m doing this for my hardcore followers who would be super disappointed if I only have three books instead of four. I know they’re out there. I know people still read blogs.
One of my favorite actor’s musician friend mentioned it on his podcast, so I need to do this for him.
I drank too much coffee before I got on this plane.
I’m pretty sure I’ll try to read it again because of the great cover, and I really don’t want to reread the previous parts because it was terrible.
My dad, who I don’t agree with politically, told me it was a terrible book before I read it, and I have already decided to tell him that he’s wrong.
It’s the only book uniformly approved by my Reddit community.