I have never been able to just give up on a book; it doesn’t matter how little I’m enjoying it or how badly written it is, I have to keep reading. I don’t know why I do this, I have enough books that I’m not in danger of running out of things to read so there really is no real reason. I’ve made a decision this year that life is just too short and I need to try and allow myself to give up on a book if I’m really not enjoying it. And today I’ve done just that! I started a biography last night and it was making me increasingly uncomfortable, it wasn’t well written either and so this morning I decided to give up on it. I feel quite liberated by this and I now realise that if I were more honest with myself about my level of enjoyment with a book that I can probably get through some of my actual books a lot quicker.