Why do I keep reading a book which makes me feel bad for most of it, just to find out at the end that it’s going to be continued in another book next year.
New resolution: when a book makes me feel bad, I’m dropping it. Too bad about feeling guilty about the writer and respecting someone’s work and giving it a chance and blablabla. I am now depressed and I have myself to thank for it.
The book is called Incomplete, and that’s how I feel.