FINAL: [BOOK CLUB] The Stolen Child, by Keith Donohue

I won't lie, I'm not finished reading this book.

But it is altogether possible that I'll never finish it. Not because it's bad, but because I'm bored and not all that driven to find out what becomes of our little hobgoblin or his clan.

See, the story goes something like this: There are hobgoblins that kidnap children and switch places with them - creating families with a secret hobgoblin child and leaving a hobgoblin clan made up of former children that magically become hobgoblins. Just as the children morph into hobgoblins, so doth the hobgoblin into a real child. Meanwhile the changing is going on, there are bouts of forgetting about hobgoblin-ness and the existence of a secret population of fellow hobgobliners.

Aren't you kind of bored of the premise just from reading the word "hobgoblin" a hundred times just then?

Do it a hundred times more and you might be where I am now.

Don't get me wrong, the premise of secret kidnapping and switching and living amongst mysterious creatures in a hidden society does appeal to me on a "when I was 7 and had a wild imagination" level - but the book itself is not making me care all that much about the main character(s) enough to want to drag my eyes over it night in and night out when I could just as easily be staring down the newest episode of Deadliest Catch.

I realize that makes me a sad example of a bookworm, when I'm being seduced by the blue flicker of the tele, but in the special cases where a book sucks me in, TV is no match for the printed word. But, this is not one of those cases.

Granted, I'm not finished reading yet, so there could be some unexpected turn of events that draws me in to the point where the words "Opilio crab" bounce unnoticed off my noggin, but I'm not feeling it right now. In fact, I think I can kinda see where this is going and am sorta writing out the end of the book in my mind as I read along. This is really confusing when the facts don't match up perfectly because I'm always sure I'm right.

I do realize this is no way to enjoy a book.

Speaking of enjoying a book - I need to get back to this practice. And, as it turns out, having a blogging book club of sorts doesn't seem to lend itself well (at least in my case) to such a thing.

And, I suck at writing book reviews worthy of your eyeballs. It's ok, I've come to terms with it. There are a few factors that contribute to this lack of inspired writing. Not the least of which being the fact that I usually finish the book long before I ever post on it, so I just forget what it was that drew me in (or had me rolling my eyes) so that I can accurately report on it to y'all.

My experience with a magic eye poster in 1989, I can remember in graphic detail, but a book I read a month ago is a total haze.

So, with this in mind, I'll be going on with my normal reading schedule, and if by some miracle a book actually sinks in, I'll post on it. No schedule, no voting, no tedious post where I try to remember what the title was and what inspired me to read it in the first place.

That way, if I get lured into the TV by Mike Rowe's face, and just start using my book as a resting place for my sweating palms, then so be it. And, just so you know, Mike Rowe is my TV boyfriend.

Don't worry, Bubba knows. And, as I've noticed, Bubba and Mike actually share some similar characteristics. Creepy.

Leave it to me, Queen of Efficiency, to have a TV crush on someone who looks like husband.

Anyway, that's the story of Book Club, ie. There is no Book Club. Like Fight Club without the dingy garages and open wounds. I will tell you, though, that I'm going to run out and get the new Khalid book because I loved Kite Runner long time and have heard good things about this latest book. I may not post on it, but I'll read it and probably love it, and probably just TiVo Mike and Sig and my other favorite fishermen so that I can watch them later with appropriate attention (drooling).