I had to abandon the YA title, "The House of the Scorpion," by Nancy Farmer. I had gotten to page 60 but wasn't digging any part of that book. Ugh. Hate to give up on a book, but time is too precious, right? I want, really want, to like YA books, but they're not working for me.
So I turned to my bookshelf, filled with titles and titles and titles, most of which I have read, but many of which I have not: books purchased On Sale or when Borders was shutting down, or for their cover designs that attracted me like a moth to light. Yes, I do judge a book by its cover.
Searched through my fiction section. Found "Middlesex," by Jeffrey Eugenides. A sticker on the top right of the book: Oprah's Book Club. Translation: I'll probably like it.
I started reading. Paragraph one begins:
"I was born twice: first, as a baby girl, on a remarkably smogless Detroit day in January of 1960; and then again, as a teenage boy, in an emergency room near Petoskey, Michigan, in August of 1974."
Now that's quite a hook, ain't it?
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