Welcome to the Bad Books mini challenge! 

Reading is a wonderful hobby, but not everyone has quite the same taste. Can you piece together the “bad” book from these scathing 1-star reviews? 

Here’s the challenge: Identify the books based on the bad review. 

A lil’ hint: All of these books are spooky books and are categorized as Horror on Goodreads.

The rules? There are none! Have fun! Don’t cheat because that’s boring.

Mostly, enjoy reading these really mad people describe their least favorite reads.

Note: These may be excerpts from longer reviews. Normally, I’d link back for credit but that would spoil the game! 

One winner will be picked at random. I’ll be doing something a lil’ different this time around. Winner will select a book (value $20 US max—sorry the Canadian exchange rate is WILD) and I’ll purchase and send it directly from an independent bookseller. To enter into the draw, please leave a comment with your answers! You don’t need to get them all right. Feel free to send me a msg on Goodreads, Twitter, or Instagram if you have trouble commenting.

I’ll be putting the answers on my Instagram Stories and announcing the winner whenever I’m back to normal post-event.

1.

My immediate thought after finishing this was, “Whaat?” This story was absolutely pointless. Nothing happened. It was just two neurotic and insane sisters living together in a creepy shell of a house barricading themselves in and being all hermit-like. 

2.

Supposedly a classic of horror literature, I was looking forward to reading this, anticipating a spooky mood and layers of tension as a governess takes over the care of two beautiful but strange children, and starts seeing ghosts.

What I got was boring tripe, where two women shriek themselves into a hysterical frenzy every couple of pages or so thanks to the least interesting or terrifying ghosts I’ve ever read about. 

3.

Why is this book – about a psychotic clown, sort of, who actually appears in this book only a handful of times -ELEVEN-FUCKING-HUNDRED pages? 

4.

This book is great! Only if you would enjoy serial killers skinning girls and forcing moths down the throats of severed heads. This book repelled me to such an extent that I had to make a decision, an unusual one, to leave this book unread for the best!

5.

Remarkably dry for a novel so overflowing with vomit, blood, pus, and bile. More shocking than scary, and even the shock’s worn off thirty years distant from the pub date, so it’s more simply distasteful than anything. I’d like to say that it at least managed an examination of the nature of faith, but sadly that, too, was largely lacking

6.

The book REDACTED is intended for readers aged 12 and up, but the level of scariness was uncomfortable even to me as an adult. Picture Alice in Wonderland but creepier. 

7.

I know this is supposed to be a brilliant satire of American consumerist culture blah-de-blah-blah-blah…and I’ll acknowledge that (probably) it is. At first, it’s even enjoyable. The writing is snappy and the characters are funny and bizarre. The female characters, however, are as vapid as they come. Hard to tell if MAIN CHARACTER is the sexist or THE AUTHOR.

8.

Don’t come for me !! Sorry I just didn’t click or jel at all with this book, I tried really I did, but I couldn’t take it anymore, I felt like a wanted the painkiller she was giving him to just get me through this book I was dying

9.

10.

For the most part, I didn’t really know what was going on. The characters talk like Yoda from Star Wars sometimes (Yes, I’m aware the original publication was 1897, and it’s written in old-English of sorts. But, still.)

Welcome to the Bad Books mini challenge! 

Reading is a wonderful hobby, but not everyone has quite the same taste. Can you piece together the “bad” book from these scathing 1-star reviews? 

Here’s the challenge: Identify the books based on the bad review. 

A lil’ hint: All of these books have been featured as nominees (and sometimes winners!) in the Goodreads Choice Awards (Years 2015 to 2019).

The rules? There are none! Have fun! Don’t cheat because that’s boring. But feel free to browse the nominees if you need a little nudge. These are pretty challenging, but I hope some of them make you chuckle. I always love reading negative reviews even when I adore a book because it helps me think critically about what I just read. Of course, sometimes people are totally right or very very wrong 😉 

Mostly, enjoy reading these really mad people describe their least favorite reads.

Note: These may be excerpts from longer reviews. Normally, I’d link back for credit but that would spoil the game! 

One winner will be picked at random to receive a $15 gift card for ThriftBooks. To enter into the draw, please leave a comment with your answers! (You don’t need to get them all right. You don’t even need to answer them all! If you have trouble commenting, feel free to send me a msg on Goodreads, Twitter, or Instagram)

I’ll putting the answers on my Instagram Stories and announcing the winner at the end of Hour 24.

1. Category is….FICTION

Let’s start with an (maybe?) easy one!

I know that X didn’t really want this published. And I know that this is supposedly a rough draft that the publisher rejected before X was published. BUT THIS WAS A TRAINWRECK.

2. Category is…SCI-FI

This one is one of my all-time favorite books, but to each their own, I guess!!

The best part of theorizing about a multiverse with infinite realities is that somewhere there is a version of me that chose not to read X.

3. Category is…MYSTERY/THRILLER

This one was mighty popular not too long ago…

Sadly I have read Fifty Shades of Grey, so I cannot call X the absolute worst book ever. Instead I’ll just call it awful. Truly. In all ways. All of it. From its portrayal of mental illness, to its utter lack of believability, to its stupid, stupid, stupid characters. One of whom gets an eyeball gouged out and I almost feel like doing the same to myself for having read this whole thing.

4. Category is…HISTORICAL FICTION

Sometimes it’s the little things that irritate readers…

Awful! Her facts about the Carolina coasts were often inaccurate, for example, we do not have fireflies on the coast. There are mussels but no one eats them. The scenes involving the court were excruciating. I do not recommend this book under any circumstances!

5. Category is…HORROR

A lot of people had epically negative reactions to one of my fav books I read last year….. 

Boy you can bet I am glad to see the back of this baby. Teeth or no.

6. Category is…NON-FICTION

This one was a popular non-fiction book that topped many bestseller lists.

The author, X, appears to have a mnemonic memory going back to her early childhood. She relates conversations and events that occurred when she was barely past her toddler years, something I find very difficult to believe. 

7. Category is…MYSTERY/THRILLER

Here’s a review of my least favorite book of all time. Sometimes it’s nice to know other people feel the same way!

The entire plot relied on the male protagonist being the stupidest human being to have ever existed on the planet. I just couldn’t believe his poor logical reasoning at all. The rest of the characters are also one-note: the mother is hysterical the entire time and doesn’t use her brain once, their neighbor’s only characteristic is being skanky, and the detectives are super unprofessional and aggressive. The writing often relied on telling instead of showing by blatantly telling you a character’s motivations and personality traits without actually describing it for you to decipher. Overall, this was a lackluster thriller that doesn’t have much substance with painfully idiotic characters. 

8. Category is…POETRY

A very subjective genre!

i am

still not 

a fan of people

who use 

random line

breaks in otherwise

simple phrases and

think it’s

somehow

groundbreaking

I don’t get it.

9. Category is…MYSTERY/THRILLER

The New Yorker published a piece last year about this author being shady AF.

10. Category is…FANTASY

Sometimes a book just isn’t for you!

They said this was meant to be romantic… oh please! Don’t make me laugh/cry. There was no romance whatsoever. The girl feels bad for the fish god and wants to save him. So she does. Than proceeds to have sex with it *puke* 

11. Category is…ROMANCE

Okay I guess I’ll use my own review for this one….

Last week, a theory about how humans experience the passage of time was published in the European Review journal. It attempts to explain why as adults we feel that time passes us by quicker now than it did when we were children. Adrian Bejan’s theory posits that the faster-seeming pace of life has to do with how quickly (or slowly) we process imagery as we age.

Reading about the theoery made me think about how the past year has flown by. Already a year since your passing. Each year contains the same 365 days (except for those pesky leap years), but the passage of time from March 25th, 2018 to March 25th, 2019 has felt like the blink of an eye.

I don’t think it has anything to do with physics and the speed at which I process images, although I plan to read more on Bejan’s fascinating theory. Instead, I think the quick pace of the calendar pages flying off the fridge has to do with the fact that time hasn’t really helped heal wounds.

I’m still painfully aware of your absence. I hear your voice loud and clear in my head. I often picked up my phone to text you something and realized there’d be no one on the receiving end. I have dreams where you’re alive and well, often laughing. Many days I’d wake up and have to remember you’re were gone, because I’d forgotten. Because it seems incredible, assinine, and impossible that you are anywhere but right next door.

Physics may blame the feeling of zipping through a year on mental processes. I think a year felt like nothing because the feeling of losing you feels fresh even now.

 

On Tuesday, my first delivery of Aimovig arrived. The box was packed to the brim with ice packs and I stashed the meds in the fridge for later. M wanted me to wait until he got home just in case of an allergic reaction.

While cooking dinner, I removed the meds from the fridge to let them cool for about a half hour. I kept glancing at them nervously. The two injection pens just sitting on my counter might completely change my life.

I’ve lived a long time with migraines. Years. Migraines sent me home from school vomitting my guts out. I once had to get off a bus to throw up before even arriving home. My now-MIL once drove me home because I had a migraine and I vomitted in a plastic bag right as we entered the driveway. I’ve grown to associate sunshine with pain and discomfort. On bad days, life seems hopeless and I go into a deep depression. I’ve often felt like a burden.

Regardless, I’ve found ways to cope and I’ve managed. I’m a freelance writer, so I can work around my migraines. I still manage to find the will to train. I just have to be careful. Loud venues are a trigger. Weather fluctuations are a trigger. Heat is a trigger. Too much sleep is a trigger. Too little sleep is a trigger. Running and migraines have taught me to listen to my body, and I’m damn good at it. I know when a migraine is coming. I take abortive triptans, but even those meds don’t guarantee that a headache will dissipate. The side effects leave me slow, sleepy, and achy. The day after an attack, I experiencce what’s known as a migraine hangover.

Even when I’m not having a series of migraine days, I feel off. Some part of my face or head hurts. I imagine it’s similar to what someone living with bi-polar disorder feels. Bad days are deeply unsettling, sad, and depressing. Good days feel exquisite. Because of the contrast, I often feel hyperactive on a good day. If I’m working, I become ultra-productive. If it’s a day off and I’m relaxing, I feel restless and bored (and I’m rarely bored).

It’s how I’ve been feeling since Tuesday’s first two unpleasant injections. It’s a wonder in all the training materials that there’s not one single mention that it’s going to hurt like a bitch to stab yourself in the thigh. Whatever. It’s better than a migraine!

Right after the injections, I felt fine. No reaction. I felt hopeful, but I’ve gotten so used to trying different meds with serious side effects that because there was no immediate bodily reaction I sort of forgot about the injection pretty quickly and expected to wake up the next day with the start of a migraine. The weather has been acting crazy lately and with precipitation on the way I was bound to wake up with the familiar stabbing pain in my left nostril.

On Wednesday I woke up feeling…oddly refreshed. When you wake up almost daily with a migraine, even a good night’s rest doesn’t really leave you feeling bright eyed and bushy tailed. January and the start of February had been bad months for me migraine-wise. I was definitely surprised to wake up feeling good, almost energetic. I rarely feel energetic. Migraines sap the life force from you. It’s as if your entire body is channeling its will to combat the pain and when it’s done, you’re left crumpled and broken.

It’s Friday now, and still no migraine. I wholly expected it when a snowstorm came along. Day 3 and it’s early to say whether this is a placebo effect or just a random coincidence, but I truly haven’t felt this good in a long time. It feels as if a fog has been lifted.

I’m left in awe thinking, ‘Is this how normal people feel on a daily basis?’. This energy and vitality feels new and I truly hope it’s not just a fluke. I already feel excited about everything and about nothing in particular.

After a more than a decade of feeling eternally exhausted, I’m ready to be awake.

 

Yesterday was Valentine’s Day. After being together for more than a decade, I truly feel that the best present is just still being able to cherish one another.

I spent my morning running and cursing the fact that my town hadn’t bothered to plow the sidewalks AT ALL after a pretty nasty snowstorm. Pedestrians don’t matter, apparently. On a busy road, lined with business and grocery stores, there was ltierally no way for a person walking to get from point A to point B without walking on the road. Totally ludicrous.

I also cursed the fact that my blister was getting irritated again. I had one last week right below the ball of my left foot and had to take several days off because it was red, inflamed, and hot to the touch.

I got home annoyed and stressed, but happy to have gotten my miles in. Still, a run is supposed to de-stress me!

I spent the afternoon sipping a hot chocolate and getting work done. A very productive afternoon. When M returned home he handed me an Amazon package that was sitting on the counter. I had plucked it from our doorstep. I tore it open to reveal a USB cable. I was so confused. I didn’t want or expect anything, but a cable? What? What the fuck? Was he trying to tell me something? I had plenty of cables already. I could use an iPhone charger, though!

He left the room to dig something out of a drawer and handed me a sleek envelope with silver ribbon. I gently opened the package to reveal a spa certificate.

I was stunned and my reaction was completely innapropriate and I still feel bad about it. In my head, my immediate thought was: “I don’t deserve something like this”. I stammered on about how it was too much and he shouldn’t have.

What’s wrong with me that I couldn’t accept the ultra thoughtful gift? It’s something I wish for often. I’m always so sore so I’m always saying I could really use a massage. I literally never pamper myself. I don’t like to spend money on haircuts and manicures. It makes me feel guilty.

I always have a hard time feeling like I deserve the things that come my way because the truth is I don’t. No one person is more deserving than another. I think it’s something that affects all facets of my life, including running.  I often have a hard time why others would want to be around me (or even whether they do at all).

Still, I am worth something. At least I know I am to someone else. I’m not sure why it’s so difficult for me to come to terms with this. I think it’s something that affects all facets of my life, including running. I deserve to lace up my shoes and run even if I don’t look like a “typical” runner.

This weekend at the spa, I’m going to try my hardest to relax, unwind, and soak it all it while a bunch of strangers massage my body, hands, and feet, and put weird lotions on my face.

I’ve never really had a running-specific mantra. But I think I’ve just come up with the perfect one:

I AM WORTHY. 

While the cold is still not letting up, it’s very apparent that the days are getting longer. It’s taking me some time to adjust and I wonder if I’ll ever get used to it.

As the days grow longer and the sky brighter, I grow depressed. Sunshine and I don’t get along on most days. It hurts to look at the brightness, even through a semi-sheer curtain. On a bad day, I’ll wake up with the beginnings of a migraine and the thought of getting out of bed to a sunny kitchen makes me want to vomit. On a good day, I worry that the bright light will leave me with a headache at the end of the day.

It’s frustrating to be that person who avoids the sun like a vampire. When I’m feeling great, it’s nice to run outdoors in the sunshine (though I prefer it in the winter, because the heat and humidity aren’t my friends). But most days, whether I’m running or not, I prefer a little bit of gloom. I like the daylight more than the nightime. I’m not a night owl, I’m certain of that. Still, I feel incredibly odd being so sun-averse.

I wonder if I’d have a better time if I simply reversed my living patterns. Awake at night and asleep during the day. But I know I’d have trouble getting to sleep with sun peeking through cracks in the bedroom door frame. So instead, I crave days where the clouds shelter me. I’m a sucker for a snowstorm. A bright whiteout doesn’t seem to bother me the same way a hot ray of sun does.

So the days get longer and I, the odd person out, wishes for rainy days and cloudy afternoons.

Originally posted to Facebook, I wrote the following in response to reading Latoya Shauntay Snell’s HuffPost piece titled ‘I’m Running 10 Marathons This Year And I Still Get Fat-Shamed. Here’s My Response.’ It was published a few days ago and it’s so worth checking out. It was just what I needed to read. Sharing my FB post with the hopes that it will resonate with others.

As a runner who has been training her butt off lately, I still struggle with body image issues. I’ve literally always looked in the mirror only to see a blob looking back at me — at any size. I’ve tried altering my body. I used to hit the treadmill after almost every meal to negate what I had just eaten. I used to count calories religiously to the point where if I messed up tracking I would feel completely out of control. I’ve tried weird diets (they were all awful and stupid). I’ve worn baggy clothes to hide what I thought was an ugly body. I’ve decided not to go out because no one would want to see said ugly body out in the world.

I’ve been working on loving my imperfect body, but harder still is seeing the perfection that’s there.

My strong legs can move through snow like a truck, maneuver on ice like a ballet dancer, and go up a hill as if propelled by a supernatural force.

My callused feet can withstand hours-long periods of being exposed to cold slushy puddles.

My thighs could probably break a person’s neck if I could figure out how to do fancy martial arts fighting like they do in the movies.

My butt is bigger than it used to be, but it looks damn good in jeans.

My tummy is probably softer than yours but that extra layer keeps me warm on long cold runs in -30C.

My boobs get in the way a lot, but sometimes they make a great shelf to put things. My bra is a secret second pocket.

My arms are ready to win in an arm wrestling match or at the very least give you a run for your money. They’re strong enough to carry 30lbs of groceries home in a storm but gentle enough to pet every single dog.

My brain has its good days and bad days, but it’s tough enough to keep me going when things get rough, to make that next forward step possible when the rest of me wants to stop.

With a little inspiration, sometimes it’s easy to be filled with pride and admiration for everything from my head to my toes. I stumbled upon an article today that really helped inspire me. In case you’re in one of those spots today, I thought I’d share it (linked above).

I decided to move to a new platform because the old one just wasn’t doing it for me. Years ago, I started blogging about running on the WordPress platform then moved to Tumblr, and now I’m back here again.

I wanted to find a permanent(ish) spot to record my thoughts about running, training, and everything else in between. I’ve been working with a coach for about 2 months now with the ultimate goal of getting back to the ultra distance. It will take a whole lot of patience and consistency, but I’m determined.

Onward and forward. I hope you’ll join me through all the ups and downs and I hope to connect with other like-minded runners along the way.