“This really isn’t a bad book. It just suffers from the fact that the main character is so painfully awkward. It’s hard to read because you keep thinking, “Jesus, pull it together 5%. And stop being in love with a girl you met for four minutes who is obviously not interested in you.”
I’m a big fan of books where the main character is unlikable. A jerk or an idiot or even painfully shy. But painfully shy is hard. As a reader, it’s hard to feel compelled to keep reading when you’re sort of yelling crappy high school football coach encouragements at the main character in your head.
Come on!
Pick it up!
Let’s go!
I guess the character was so shy and weird, it’s like that shy, weird friend you have who you feel bad for, but holy shit is that guy NOT a good time. You want to hang out with him, sort of, but when you are thinking something might be super fun, the last thing you do is invite the guy because you don’t want him to expose the ways it’s possible to have an awful time in what seems like a total blast.
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