RJ and I were talking about books one day and for some reason or another she mentioned Skinned. I thought it was a title on the Cybils finalists list so I told her I wanted to read it. She brought me her copy and it was then that I realized it wasn’t on the list at all. So, I didn’t read it. It’s been sitting on my desk for a month.
When I finished the Percheron Saga and had no book waiting for me on the library shelf, I picked it up.
And I hated it.
I read 20 pages, put it down and bugged TW. I picked it up and read 30 more pages. Put it down and ranted about what a horrible book this was.
The next day, I read 20 more pages and wanted to call RJ to ask her why in the hell she liked this book. I read 50 more pages and told TW I did not want my brain cut up into pieces and downloaded so it could be put inside of a machine body. She questioned my decision because she apparently thinks this sounds like a good idea. She. Is. Whacked.
I read 30 more pages and went to bed.
The writing isn’t great. The characters have no redeeming qualities. None. Not one.
I finished it today and it was only in the last 30 pages that I found myself enjoying it – wondering what would happen next to these people I don’t like even a tiny bit.
All of that writing and only the last 30 pages made me glad I read the thing? Ugh. I don’t think I’ll bother with the rest of the series – unless RJ talks me into reading them.