Sorry endings

The written word is a powerful thing - bewaaaaaaaare!

As people who have inadvertently tweeted and blogged silly comments to their own regret will know, a word in print can have catastrophic consequences. That includes spoiling my mood for the rest of the day.

A book with a tragic ending can really, really upset me. I was reminded of this the other day when I read the finale in a trilogy of teen fantasies, only to be left with a distinctly bitter taste in my mouth. The London Stone, if you want to know. There was a great deal of death and despair and betrayal, and a conclusion as satisfying as cold porridge. Fills in the gaps, but you sure don't enjoy it.

I acknowledge an obvious lack of maturity in my literary tastes. I should merely wallow in the exquisite pain and hyperrealism of it all.

Should I bo|!ocks.

I read to escape. I read - oh dear, how gauche - for pleasure. I don't want horrible things to happen to the people I have enjoyed spending so much time with. If you make me love a character - don't destroy him. It's all I ask. King Lear, meh, he had some life lessons coming. Othello was a bit of a gull, granted. You can learn from the tragedies of these people. But when that person is coming right...when that person is, say, Elizabeth Bennet, about to embark on her first romance...you're just really going to wazzle me off.

This doesn't mean I don't want to read about tragic circumstances. Not at all. As I have mentioned, my favourite genre is crime, and you just can't have a good story without conflict. But give me something to smile about at the end. Please.

Stop reading now if you are afraid of spoilers, but these are some of the books that rained off my finals. Let me know if any had the same effect on you...Or, of course, if you think I'm mad.